Road To Rohan
by AlmaGemela
Summary: Rem swallowed, a tremble shivering through her limbs. Goosebumps were blossoming across her skin, and deep down she knew it had little to do with the chilly water... Girl falls into Middle Earth with a twist: she hates Legolas and wants to leave
1. Careful What You Wish For

Disclaimer: Nope, my driver's license does not in fact state that I am John Ronald Ruel Tolkien. Ergo, this isn't mine, and I make no profit from this fan-made-fiction.

A/N: Apologies on the long absence! Massive re-editing on the entire story…

WARNING: lots of cursing in this story. Don't like it, don't read it. Also rated for later citrus in Chapter 10.

'To know sorrow

Is not terrifying

What is terrifying

Is to know you can't go back

To happiness you could have'

~Tite Kubo

MONTHS EARLIER

_God, I am so dead._ Rem stretched lethargically in her desk chair, only to huddle back up moodily like a cat. She tugged at the soft blanket strewn over her lap, rearranging it hastily so that it was wrapped about her entirely. Fighting back a sigh, she turned her half-hearted attention back to her notes.

She shouldn't have procrastinated. She was well aware that it was her own damn fault. Well, maybe not entirely…It wasn't her fault that the professor had moved up the date on her exam. And it wasn't her fault she had to work each night at the grocery store, behind the deli counter, thus disallowing her to study. In fact she'd tried to make the best of it. But when her manager had caught her frantically scanning through her textbook when she should have been working on the Basil Tomato Mozzarella Salad, she'd nearly been written up. As it was, she'd gotten an earful.

So here she was: bent over her stupid book, cramming what little information would stick in her exhausted brain. It was late, probably around one or two in the morning. The cup of Berry Delicious tea she had fixed herself had long grown cold, and a headache was slowly making itself known. She squirmed in her chair a bit, wishing she could get more comfortable in the cheap, wooden dormitory furniture. What she wouldn't give to relieve the soreness in her neck from having to crane it down for so long. But at least it was finally quiet. Her damn room was close to the stairwell, so she always had a steady stream of people shrieking and laughing as they came or left the building.

At times like these, she was grateful to have her roommate as —well, her roommate. Caitlin wasn't much of a friend and she wasn't around much. So really it was almost like living by herself: a private room but without the extra expense. She was one of those young ladies who allowed her parents to pay for student housing, and then promptly moved in with her boyfriend without their knowledge. Although once a month or so Caitlin would storm in, screaming and cursing into her phone. It was usually in lament to one of her girlfriends about some argument or other she'd had with her paramour. Once or twice she'd even popped in unexpectedly with strangers, and it had been severely awkward for Rem—especially one particular incident where she had been merely half-dressed. Still, at least she had a semblance of privacy the rest of the time in thanks to her general absence.

Her tired eyes flickered over the page, scanning over the briefest of sentences. Rem groaned softly, closing them in the denial of having to take out her stupid contacts. Truth be told, she was near-sighted. Very near-sighted. Her desk lamp hummed irritably, buzzing its wakefulness in the dark. Rem's eyes lowered, tugging her fingers absently on her blanket as they did. Maybe…it wouldn't hurt to shut them for a few brief minutes…? Tiredly, she grabbed her contact solution and case. She removed them deftly, having done so many times, before gingerly placing her glasses on. Switching between the two often made her a bit dizzy, or at the very least a bit disoriented since it through her depth perception off.

She closed her eyes, massaging her temples…yes…she just needed a few minutes to adjust….and resume…studying….Her head slipped forward, resting on the page. She ignored the pencil nudging uncomfortably against her cheek; her glasses frames pressing into her skin. Yes…all she needed was to rest her eyes for a second….Just a second.

Her last conscious thought, as she fell into a doze, was that she wished she were anywhere but here. Anywhere.

The next thing she was aware of was falling painfully on her rear. She recoiled, floundering helplessly in her blanket.

_OW! Son of a…_

A chilling, war-like screech ripped through her ears, shocking her as she fought to get her bearings. Her stomach heaved in panic and confusion. She recoiled once she realized what the hell had made that shriek. Jagged armor, painful to look at, outlined the silhouette of what looked like a gnarled, gray-fleshed man. Loam was clumped in the creature's hair, as if the thing had never bathed. The smell it emitted didn't conflict with that notion. Worse, it was armed with a wicked looking blade. Alarmed, she noted its slit green eyes were fixated on her. It was hedging closer—a leer forming on its spittle-tipped fangs, a growl curling past its lips.

Running was out of the question; she was tangled up in her stupid blanket. Adrenaline rocketed through her veins as the creature lunged, hardly allowing her time to think.

She kneed it in the groin. And immediately regretted it.

"Fuck!" She grasped at her leg in a haze of pain, writhing. _Shit…it's wearing a cod piece?!_ The goblin-thing paused, an expression twisting its features. It might have been bemusement. Hesitance cost the thing its life. A smattering of battle cries tore through the clearing, and a host of weaponry ripped into its throat, beheading it while splattering Rem with black blood and entrails.

She stared, shocked at seeing disembowelment so…up close.

She glanced upward, spots swimming before her eyes, taking in the visage of her savior as she choked in shaking breaths. But before the silhouette could even register, everything blurred and started twisting into graying shadows. The world spun sideways, and her sight faded away completely.

Gruff, muted conversation was what roused her first. Second was the acrid smell of smoke cutting through the chilly air. Cautiously, she cracked open her eyelids. A burning fire was roaring off to her left. She was propped against the roots of a wide tree, a blanket she did not recognize swathed over her. She tried to sit up, only to be abruptly reminded of a sore posterior and her undoubtedly bruised knee. Terror at not knowing where she was, or precisely how she got there, made her momentarily numb as she hazily took in her surroundings. The dull throbbing of her mild injuries was actually a blessing, since it helped her focus.

She let out a soft, involuntary groan, which seemed to bring about the attention of those before the fire. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Movement to her right had her go ridged, causing yet another lurching ache to rip through her numerous bruises. The stranger approached, twigs and leaves crackling beneath his booted feet. Into view came a short man, bedecked by worn, leathery clothes and a reddish, braided beard. He sat down before her. Funny…how he seemed to remind her of someone…she blinked. Or was it something…? She pushed the absurd thought aside. She didn't know where the hell she was, or even how she got here. Icing on the cake was that she'd fainted. Actually fainted. She'd never fainted before in her life. That was something tacky heroines did in trashy romance novels. This whole experience was beginning to feel like bad literature, or an alternate reality of some sort. It was probable that this was just some fucked-up dream; she could still be facedown on her notebook, drooling onto her desk. But you weren't supposed to feel pain in your dreams. So maybe she'd fallen from her chair and somehow hadn't woken up? Head trauma ranked a high possibility, among her other injuries…

Wordlessly, he handed her a cup of cool liquid and a small plate with what looked like a smart assortment of prepared meat and edible vegetation. She took it, her stomach reminding her of its empty state. They stared wordlessly at another, a cold wash of…not fear exactly…but perhaps…vigilance, dancing across her skin. She was being scrutinized, and she knew it. There lingered more than a touch of hostility in that gaze, though perhaps there was curiosity in there as well. She wasn't sure of anything any more. Anxiety forced a bitter, coppery taste in her mouth. _What the fuck is going on?_

He cleared his throat, startling her like a twitchy rabbit. Rem bit her tongue, nearly drawing blood. Cursing herself for acting like some sort of idiot, she muttered a strangled 'thank you,' and set to work on shoveling some food into her mouth. As she chewed, she avoided eye contact with the little man, praying her mind would stop spinning. No such luck. She felt like her nerves were being held together by a tenacious thread. As hungry as she was, anxiety twisted her stomach into knots, keeping her from really sating her appetite.

Nausea heaved through her stomach, stress rearing its ugly head. Or it could very well be the side venison, dripping in its own juices, pushed to the far edge of her plate. She couldn't eat meat, and the sight of it now wasn't helping her increasingly waning appetite. She had been in her dorm room, cramming for an exam….and wound up in a forest, nearly murdered.

"What business have ye wandering about these parts? And without chaperon, no less?" The sharp interruption of silence made her suck in a breath; an unfortunate combination, given the fact that she was swallowing some water. So much for her fruitless attempt at bracing her insides with a calming sip. She hiccoughed back some of the liquid, praying that she wasn't spraying her companion as she flushed it out in order to breathe. Hot with embarrassment, she focused on trying to regain her breath, fighting to answer.

"I was j—just," she hacked again, her voice rough and uneven. Rem wished the earth would open up and swallow her already. " I mean," she floundered, "I landed in the dirt…I wasn't with anyone…and…" she let loose a shaky sigh, a broken gesticulation performed by her hand. She couldn't help fidgeting under his unyielding stare. It didn't look like he was going to buy this shit. Hell, even she wasn't buying it. What sane person believes that someone else can appear from fucking nowhere with no explanation? She told herself that this must be a dream. Just a surprisingly lucid dream: one where phantom pain couldn't rouse her from its confines. Any minute now she'd wake up, brush it off as she rushed off to class to fail her impromptu exam. But it wasn't happening. Minutes seemed to stretch by, and nothing was happening. Low voices began once more in direction of the fire. A breeze crackled past the foliage of leaves above, and the idea that this wasn't really happening beginning to slowly fade away, making her want to vomit. The feeling that she'd swallowed a block of ice, now caking her insides, began to thicken as a dull panic grew.

She opened her mouth, prickles of disbelief warring inside of her even as she squashed it down.

"I…where am I, exactly?" she bit her lip, dropping her gaze. Why wouldn't he stop staring? Maybe he thought she was a victim of highway robbery. Or possibly just bat-shit-crazy. Logical to assume both.

"Just to the east of Rivendell, lassie." The meaning of his words caused another spike of emotion to roil inside her poor stomach.

_Rivendell? What…?_ Heart pounding, she asked something else, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears.

"You mean…Imladris…as in the house of Elrond…?" He nodded, maybe in encouragement. All it did was make her head spin.

"Ye are familiar with it?" _Yes,_ she thought,_ I'm fucking familiar with it! Why can't I just wake up?! This isn't just a dream. It' a fucking nightmare... I NEED TO WAKE UP!_ She swallowed, the uncomfortable churning of her insides reminding her that she remained in the peril of throwing up.

"Technically. I mean…." Rem's throat felt raw, as it she already had already hurled. Swallowing in reflex, she elaborated. "I've…heard of it. I'm actually from…far away." He nodded, never breaking eye contact. She felt a raw blush breathe up her neck. Suddenly very aware of how she was dressed: a pair of ratty, baggy jeans coupled with a shirt. _At least I'm wearing a bra…_Her feet weren't cold, so that probably meant her socks were still intact. Still…what a hell of a sight.

"Yer name, lassie?" He grunted the question. Making her wince. This whole fucked up thing was just too surreal. _I'm sitting next to a dwarf…after trying to kick a monster in the nuts. Not to mention I look like crap…_

"It's….Rembrance….But everyone calls me Rem…" the entire situation just felt too utterly bizarre, and the weight of the whole experience was beginning to make her feel light-headed. She swallowed once again before continuing, striving to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged. It was feeling like a losing battle. "…and Eltrin is my last—uh—surname." He stood very suddenly, only to bow stiffly in the formality of introduction.

"Gimli, son of Gloin. At yer service."

_No. Fucking. Way._ She snapped her eyes shut. _Oh god, this isn't a dream… It's a frickin' nightmare! _

"And yer parentage, Lady Eltrin?" She blinked owlishly, a stupid expression probably on her face. _Ah, a patriarchal society. Got it._ She focused on maintaining a calm demeanor, praying that it might actually fool herself into becoming that way.

"daughter of Josephine," she muttered. He grunted, dissatisfaction evident in the sound.

"Yer father…?"

"I don't have a father." She said it flatly, indicating she had no wish to discuss the subject further. _As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't even exist. He might as well be dead._ The sudden rustle of dead branches and leaves cracking under foot indicated the arrival of another. He joined them from out of the fire's glow. Much of his features were painted in shadow, except for a snowy beard that twisted in an icy river down his chest. He looked very much like Gimli, but gnarled from having weathered many decades.

"Learn anythin'?" his voice was harsh, more grating. While Gimli's wasn't exactly oil over silk, the pleasant timbre of it was still preferable to the newcomer's. Or it could very well just be the way it was rudely enunciated. She didn't appreciate being ignored and talked over, either.

"You're…Glöin, I take it?" Sharp, clear eyes wreathed by wrinkles looked at her. His facial expression warred between suspicion and dare she say…annoyance?

"Aye, an' who're you?" He intoned flatly.

"Someone…who's a little far from home…"She murmured, rubbing her temples. A headache was beginning to threaten. A clearing of the throat caused her to look up once more. Both dwarves were studying her, distaste and suspicion evident in their gaze, and neither seemed amused by her response.

"Rembrance!" She snapped, fatigue and anxiety giving way to anger, "I already told you my name is Rembrance! I don't know how I got here, or what the fuck I'm supposed to do…" A look of revulsion at her foul language crossed their faces, causing her to tone it down. They had no obligation to feed or protect her. If she didn't want to be abandoned as well as injured, she needed to cool it. Swallowing down the powerful emotion, she took a steadying breath, trying to begin again. "I'm sorry…I'm just…confused by all of this. Even more than you guys. If I had any answers to give, you'd have them. As it is…I only have a favor to ask. I need to go with you to Rivendell."

Father and son exchanged glances.

"What gave ye the idea we were headin' there?" Rem nearly rolled her eyes.

"I doubt Dwarves are in the habit of roaming near the House of Elrond. Obviously you're headed there, if only to make a pit-stop for some 'R and R' ." Gimli ignored the look his father was giving him, knowing he had slipped up in telling the girl their location. He chose, instead, to focus on the odd phrase the girl had chosen.

"Pit-stop for some Ar and ar…?"

"It's just an expression," she said evenly, "meaning you were going to stop by for some rest and relaxation…stock up on some supplies before heading out into the wild. Like you did on your quest for the Lonely Mountain with Bilbo…and the others…"

"How came you by that knowledge, lass?" Glöin interrupted suspiciously.

"Look…I just know things…," Rem blew out a sigh. Was it her, or were things here going from bad to worse? "events and stuff," at their disbelieving looks, she continued, grasping at straws, "Not everything, obviously. But great sweeping ones…like the Council of the One Ring, the Fellowship…" she trailed off, alarmed. The faces of both Dwarves had darkened considerably. "Which…obviously hasn't happened yet. Shit…."

"You're coming with us," Glöin affirmed grimly, "and ye'll hold your tongue on the matter, lass."

Dawn came too soon. And with the lightening gloom came the sense of returned foreboding Rem had staved off in sleep, only to settle like a brick in her stomach once more upon waking. On one hand, she had gotten her wish. The Dwarves were providing a sort of escort to Rivendell. If she couldn't find help there, then…well…she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. It was as good a starting point as any. However, on the other hand, she was under the impression that she was more so a prisoner than anything else. Thanks to her big slip-up, they seemed to think that she was some type of seer. At the very least, she was a danger to them…Especially if the enemy got its hold on her. She could see the logic in their caution. She had literally appeared from out of the blue and established that she knew too much. But what she wouldn't give to have five minutes of privacy to pee in peace!

She'd been mortified when, after expressing her need to visit the bushes, two Dwarves personally assigned to her dutifully followed. Not to mentioned they kept close enough that she almost had trouble going—knowing that they might hear. Still, it could have been worse, she reasoned. At least the Dwarves weren't insisting that she be tied up…Though she had a sneaking suspicion that they would if she tried anything funny. In the meantime, she couldn't help but feel a bit like Snow White what with her entourage. Glöin would make a perfect Grumpy…They reached Rivendell slightly past noon, as the morning shyly tucked itself away into the early shadows.

She couldn't rip her eyes away from the eloquent architecture of the Elvish buildings, towering above them like trees as they came into view. The torrential rush of the churning waterfall in their midst felt like the only changing element in the valley. Everything else seemed just so…timeless, and tranquil. As they neared their destination of the main building, she noted how busy the place seemed. Nervously her gaze flickered around the various denizens, her stomach tied up in knots for what felt like the upteenth time.

There had been a time, years before, when her experience of all this might have been different…But the Lord of the Rings stories and all of their literary relations left a bit of a sour taste in her mouth these days. It was partially why she hated her father so much. No…hate was too strong a word. She didn't care about him. She was indifferent to his very memory.

Before he'd left her and her mother, he would stay up late reading those same stories to her. Over and over again…reverently, like a prayer. Now that he was out of the picture…well, this whole situation she found herself in was just too messed up on several different levels.

Two hobbits ran by, dispersing a group of Elves who gracefully parted away from them. They had to be Merry and Pippin. Rem swallowed, her mouth suddenly going dry.

_This…is really weird._

"She looks no different from any other mortal I have seen…Save, perhaps, for her attire and spectacles." It was unusual for one so young to have any need of the latter. Elrond shrugged unhelpfully.

"Be that as it may, Lord Elrond. The Dwarves claim she knows the future." Elrond paused at Gandalf's words, allowing them to sink in as the wizard continued. "She also claims to have no knowledge of how she arrived alone in the wild. It is worth considering that she may be of another world…one outside of Middle Earth." Elrond hesitated before responding.

"In any case, it would be best that we keep an eye on her. Do not allow her near the council until we are finished. If she can recite our decisions, then we may have a reason to believe she speaks a modicum of truth."

He stepped toward the window, studying the young woman in baggy clothes as she adjusted her glasses.

"I'll see to it that she is given proper attire—and a bath, if she so desires." Gandalf nodded distractedly, smiling despite the fact that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'll see you at the Council then." Elrond nodded, not even turning as he waved in acknowledgment. He had not taken his eyes off of the strange young woman, who looked somewhat lost standing in the courtyard by her remaining companions.

Now that her initial awe and feelings of surrealistic awareness had faded into the back-burner of her brain, Rem felt intimidated. No, she felt more like dirt. She was covered in it, after all. Everywhere she looked, whether at the Elves who wandered by or even the scenery itself, she saw beauty. _You know something's wrong when you start envying a bush._ She thought wryly. While she wasn't ugly by any means, she knew she wasn't actually that far off what with the state she was in. There was still goblin blood on her clothes, after all. And the dirt, smudged with various vegetation, didn't actually help her appearance either. She'd kill for a bath.

She stood in the main courtyard with the remainder of her escort. Evidently, Glöin, Gimli, and several others had gone ahead merely to inform Lord Elrond and the Gray Pilgrim of her presence. In the meantime, she had to suck it up and wait with the others. Tenacious conversation began amongst the Dwarves. Though it was initially weighted with grumbled ruminations about home, it waned in subject matter and they deigned to include Rem.

"Is it true that ye tried to knee that goblin in the groin?" Twalin, she thought his name was, seemed oddly approving of the notion. Rem's knee throbbed in reminder.

"Yeah…What little good it did me…"

"Ye were lucky the codpiece wasn't spiked." Another Dwarf by the name of Orin remarked. Rem winced slightly, envisioning that kind of pain while the one she already continued to ache.

"Why the hell would it have been spiked?! What purpose would that even serve?!"

"That attempt o' yours served it."

"Oh…" _Good point. But that can't be comfortable…_

All at once, a couple of Elves on horseback galloped past as they entered the courtyard, interrupting what might have been said next. Startled, she tripped back. She would have fallen on her still-bruised derriere if it weren't for Orin. The Dwarf grasped her arm, steadying her. She gave him a grateful look.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He replied gruffly. He scowled in the direction of the new arrivals. She mimicked him by following his gaze, her mouth going dry at the sight of them. Their clothing was different than that of the other Elves from Rivendell, given that they were clad in silvery browns and drab greens._ That means they're probably from Mirkwood…which means…_ _Shit._ The last thing she needed was to confront more ghosts. She swayed slightly, allowing both Twalin and Orin to steady her this time. Great, she'd nearly fainted again. For the second time within a week. Prior to this, she'd never fainted in her life.

Much to her dismay, two of the Elves turned in their direction, sizing them up. The Dwarves all scowled, and Rem strove to catch her breath. _Why the hell do they have to be so…beautiful?! _One furrowed his brow: she couldn't help but notice that he had turbulent, stormy blue eyes that were clouded with thought. But she stopped staring when his companion glared at them fiercely, as though disgusted by their attention. She winced. _Jeez. Who spit in their tea?_

"What's their problem?" She kept her voice low. Not the smartest in the world to do since the Elves evidently heard her anyway. The one glaring at them had his expression deepen before turning away, distracting the other from studying them by striking up a hushed conversation.

"Dwarf business." Orin supplied at last. She nodded distractedly, watching them go, clothes swirling. She dimly recalled that dwarfs and elves in general didn't get along much; differences in opinion brought along by different life experiences and general culture or something like that. Still, the animosity seemed a bit unwarranted given that they were just standing there.

"Does it have something to do with Thranduil being a douchbag about sixty years ago?" She muttered acerbically, straightening her glasses. The Elves stared at her. _Shit. They heard. _Twalin's face broke out into a grin as he thumped her on the back heartily, almost knocking her flat.

"Aye, Lady Rem. You've about got it."

It was then she noticed an Elf pointedly approaching, causing the dwarfs to stiffen. The Elf in question had lovely gray eyes and wore a softly colored dress of orange, which brought out the gold of her hair.

"Miss, would you care for a bath?..." Her empathetic voice was like bluebells chuckling in the breeze. If flowers giggled, at any rate. Rem didn't know whether to be grateful or feel insulted. But the desire to be clean won out in the end. She smiled nervously back.

"Yes, thank you. That would be lovely." The Elf turned to lead her away, and Rem hazarded a glance back at the Dwarves, giving an awkward wave. How does one say goodbye to those who escorted/captured you? She shrugged.

"Are you coming, Miss?" Rem scuttled after her, striving to ignore her bruised knee as she hurried after the Elf in the lovely orange gown.

"Yeah, right behind you." They rounded a bend and entered a gorgeous building. After passing through the open-air hallways that beheld spectacular views of the valley, they came to a room equipped with a sunken bath. Actually, it looked more like a Jacuzzi than anything else. The room was equipped with more exquisite architecture, with an open wall framing the view below. It also hosted a soft looking bed, a desk and elegantly carved chair, equipped also with a dressing screen.

"I'll return with a change of garments for you, Miss." Rem looked up guiltily. She'd forgotten she was there for a moment.

"Thank you…I'd appreciate that," She attempted a smile, "and please, just call me Rem." The Elf smiled gently at her.

"I am called Eldewyn." She then departed. But she had not gone more than a few spaces before hearing a small squeal that must have come from the girl. She hesitated only for an instant, but when no sound followed, she continued on her way. Humans were indeed strange.

What had occurred was this: Rem had shimmied out of her clothing as quickly as possible. She had then immediately splashed into the tub, eager to be clean, only to find that the water was most definitely not heated. It had come as a bit of a surprise, and the shriek was a bit warranted.

A bit later, Rem felt infinitely better. While the water had cooled from lukewarm to cold, she was at least clean. Well, cleaner. Obviously, personal hygiene wasn't to be taken for granted around here. She dearly wished that her own bathing products were here. Their familiarity would have been a comfort, whereas the ones she had used felt vaguely alien to her skin and hair. But beggars couldn't be choosers. And the view from the room was nice...from what she assumed at any rate. She had taken her glasses off.

She sank lower in the water, brooding. So…here she was…in Middle Earth. How and why were still two very large questions. Like gaping holes staring her in the face; like the eyes of a skull. She shivered, then dunked her head one last time, making sure she had rinsed out the last of the bathing condiments. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Was it Monday morning back home right now? She'd disappeared on a Thursday night…so it seemed plausible. Luckily, she only had the one class on Fridays, and that meant she only risked a failed exam. But she'd done that plenty of times. So her biggest concern remained to be getting fired from her job…She could almost hear her boss's shrieks when it was discovered she hadn't shown up for her shifts over the weekend.

On Saturdays, she worked behind the deli counter alone. It was a relatively small grocery store, and still a bit new to the community of downtown. Originally, she had opened Saturday mornings with her coworker, Jenna. But after Jenna had quit, Rem had somehow managed to perform the workload of two in the next few weeks following. Management then decided that they could cut costs by keeping it that way. Which meant she had to gut chickens to put them on the rotisserie, prepare the hot lunch, decorate cakes, make sandwiches, slice deli meat and cheese, make fancy salads and place them in decorative display cases, empty the grease that gelatinized on the rotisserie, and clean every utensil she so much as breathed on by herself from 5 a.m. until late in the afternoon. Small wonder she had become a vegetarian shortly thereafter.

Her boss generally only worked Sundays. Once she heard from the evening shift from Saturday that she hadn't shown for the morning, she could kiss her next paycheck goodbye. Rem cringed at the thought as she sat up and began twisting the water from her hair. While living in a college town had its perks: like late-night restaurants and 24-7 convenience stores, there were some downers. Like job hunting. It was a cut-throat business what with other college students around. Some of her peers were willing to bend over backwards for a job. Which meant businesses could afford to be picky. Which meant she was in some serious trouble if she didn't get home. Pronto.

Bracing herself, she emerged from the bowels of the tub, tucking on her glasses. But it erupted into a sputtering shriek when she realized she wasn't alone. She startled the Elf as well.

"I'm sorry, Lady Rem! I didn't mean to frighten you." Rem hugged herself self-consciously, praying she wasn't showing anything.

"Uh…Yeah…no big deal…" Eldewyn shuffled closer, holding out a towel as a mother would to her child. Rem eyed her warily, not sure whether to leave the protective modesty of the tub.

Eldewyn waited patiently. Finally, realizing she looked foolish—and that the water was still cold- She slunk out quickly, with Eldewyn looking away in consideration. Draped in cloth, she swaddled herself carefully, muttering out a thank-you as she did. Eldewyn continued to stare, making Rem bristle with discomfort.

"What?" It came out a bit more peevish than she'd meant.

"Lord Elrond has a salve that can aid your sight," Eldewyn replied mildly, gesturing to her glasses "if those bother you." Rem blinked at her empathetic companion, fidgeting slightly. _Yeah, like Elves have a cure for what optometrists have been striving to correct for years._ She ignored her pointedly rude thoughts and replied tactfully.

"That would be nice…if it's not too much trouble, I guess." Eldewyn nodded approvingly, then presented her with a bundle of what looked like olive green cloth.

"These are your robes, Lady Rem." She took them carefully.

"Thanks…and please, just call me 'Rem'…and if it's not too much trouble..." she averted her eyes for a moment, trying to think of the proper euphemism. They probably didn't have a term for the common razor, she didn't think. "…do you think you could obtain a small dagger or something that I can use for….shaving? Maybe…?" The Elf hardly blinked at her request, nodding as she headed toward the door.

"Yes, I will return with the proffered items shortly."

Moments later, she returned bearing several items, one of which was the promised 'dagger'. Eldewyn smiled coaxingly as she handed it over and explained that it was called a 'straight razor'. Rem felt unbearably stupid; of course they had the stupid things here…how else were men expected to groom their facial hair? Humbled, she watched the Elf curiously as she rummaged around with a few things: adding one liquid to another with nimble fingers to create a sort of paste.

Suddenly, she whipped around, gesturing Rem to sit upon the chair that rested before the desk. Which could double as a vanity, in any case. Carefully removing her glasses, she apprehensively allowed Eldewyn to apply a greenish goo around her eyes. She closed them reflexively, cringing as Eldewyn gently admonished her.

"You need to open them, dear."

"Right…yeah…this won't sting, will it?" Eldewyn smiled reassuring.

"Only a little." It was the only warning she had before the Elf jammed her fingers, thick with the odd-smelling substance, into her eyes. Rem yelped, partially because yes, it DID fucking sting, and also because she hadn't exactly been expecting such a move from the seemingly mild-mannered Elf maid. Eldewyn tittered softly, probably because she was doing a favorable impression of a squirrel as she gasped through her mouth and thrashed around in surprise. If she had a tail, it would be bushy and sticking straight out like a bottlebrush.

" Now wipe your face with this." Blindly, given that she had her eyes screwed shut, she gabbed whatever it was being handing to her. It was a funky smelling rag of some kind. But nonetheless she scrubbed at her face until it was cleared from the mess. Squinting her eyes open, she came to a bit of a shock. It worked. She could see.

_H-holy shit! I can actually see!_ Dumbfounded, she came back to earth when Eldewyn's musical laughter once again assaulted her ears.

"Now that wasn't so bad, yes? Now, to your injury…I noticed a limp in your gait."_ Oh, right…my knee…_With a burgeoning faith in Elvish medicines, she gingerly moved part of the towel aside. Elddewyn scooped up an amber looking paste and smeared it liberally along the area. She then tightened the lid of the container it came from and placed it in front of Rem on the desk.

"You'll need to apply that three times a day for two days." She nodded vigorously, still trying to take everything in with her new eyesight. She hadn't seen anything this acutely without aid since she was in kindergarten. To say she was in awe would have been an understatement.

"Yes…absolutely…Thank you very much." The Elf smiled at Rem warmly, and smoothed the young woman's damp hair away from her neck a bit. She then turned to go, scooping up Rem's dirty clothes before heading to the exit, calling over her shoulder as she did.

"I'll leave you to your own devices. I'll be just outside the door. Call if you need anything." Rem nodded slowly.

"Sure thing." She waited until the door closed before slouching in her chair. She wasn't stupid. She was in effect being held prisoner…or to put it more appropriately, she was being watched until after the council. Not that she could really blame them. Tension was high right now, especially since Saruman had only recently betrayed everyone. But things weren't looking too bad. Literally. She placed her glasses on the desk, then moved to sit up and dropped the dress she had been hugging onto the bed before moving back toward the tub with her newly acquired straight razor. All she had to do now was play the waiting game.

A knock resounded on the door, startling Rem out of her reverie. She had been staring out at the view, blandly cooking up some bogus excuse she could hand her boss once she returned home…Her thought process trickled to a halt.

An Elf entered, one with ancient eyes and dark brown hair, clad in reddish robes. Behind him strolled another man, an elderly looking chap with a silvery beard and gray robes. He also carried an aged staff. He had blue eyes…eyes that could laugh, in a grandfatherly way. But they seemed sad, somehow. Troubled. Rem bobbed an awkward curtsy, wishing she could invent the handshake. She had an inkling who stood before her as the Council must be over.

"Lord Elrond, thank you for welcoming me into your home. I'm very grateful." She smiled, then turned to Gandalf, "And you're Gandalf, I take it?" He nodded haltingly, looking her over. Feeling kind of embarrassed, she took a step back, wishing to escape their scrutiny. Humiliating as it was, the original gown Eldewyn had brought her hadn't fit. It had been too tight across the chest. As were the second and third gown she'd brought. She was wearing the lucky fourth…something that had been left behind by a guest ages past and was a bland cream color. While unflattering to her eyes, it at least appropriately covered her cleavage…Though not enough, to her level of comfort.

"You have recognized us by description, then?" Elrond was the first to speak. So, the interrogation had begun. How fun.

"Technically. That depends on whether or not you believe what I have to say." Both Elf and wizard exchanged looks, before Gandalf answered.

"Go on, then. We're ready to hear it.

About an hour later, after much discussion and nearly mind-numbing repetition, Rem stared at her hosts dejectedly, perched on the edge of the bed.

"So…neither of you have any idea where it is I'm from, exactly…And as such, I'm stuck here?" Gandalf chewed on his pipe reflectively, blowing out a smoke ring that took the shape of a flower. It caught on the breeze that swept through the room, and gently coasted out into the open air of the valley.

"I'm afraid so. It has been suggested that you may have been brought here by a deeper magic," he caught her gaze meaningfully, "or perhaps by Lord Sauron— "

"He didn't fucking summon me!" Rem snapped venomously, then instantly regretted the acidity of her words. She was being overtly rude without meaning to. _I need to learn to swear a little less…_

"It was not insinuated that you were in league with him." Elrond answered calmly. He and Gandalf seemed to be taking her crude words in stride. _Thank God._ The last thing she needed was to be tossed out on her rear. She needed all the help she could get. And as of right now, that included getting answers.

"It was more of a speculative over-site. It may very well be that because of him, you are now here."

"So, you're saying that someone like Saruman might have pulled me here and into your world…But why me? Why now? I mean, why not grab some scholarly professor who's studied this shi-stuff his whole life," She muttered lamely.

"It may be that you have notable abilities of introspection in terms of the current situation at hand." Rem shrugged dully. Being separated from home, possibly for good no less, was curling like a sick cat in the middle of her stomach. _What about the rest of my fucking education? What about my mom? How is she going to react once she finds I've gone missing?_ Everything she cared about, everyone she loved—gone. Gandalf cleared his throat, regaining her attention.

"Whether or not this proves to be true, you are in fact here now. Your status, the matter of your being here, was broached during the Council." Rem felt a chill shiver down her spine. She didn't like the sound of this. He continued, unabated. "The implication of one who knows what will come to pass may be dangerous, especially should you fall into the wrong hands."

"So…what did you guys decide?" she asked softly, wringing her hands distractedly in the fabric of her dress. Maybe, just maybe, they'd let her stay here. If she did, she'd be less in the way…she wasn't the warrior type. More of the book worm type. Not the kind of girl who was best suited for the job of helping a fellowship that would eventually splinter. She felt her heart give a brief leap. Maybe she could help Arwen, when the things were bleak and she needed looking after, as the life of the Eldar left her…Rem's brilliant meanderings were shattered, however, at Gandalf's next words.

"Therefore, you will be joining our fellowship, as it will prove the least risk to your person—"

"Are you nuts?" She interjected, horrified, "You're about to be thrust into danger! What if I'm captured? Where will that leave everyone then? And I don't even know how to fight…I barely managed to defend myself from that goblin. I mean,I tried kneeing it in the groin! Which didn't work, by the way…If Gimli and the others hadn't come along when they did, I'd be dead!" Huffing to catch her breath, she felt heat prickle in her cheeks at the looks they were giving her. Elrond had an eyebrow raised, while Gandalf looked down right amused.

"This has been thought through, Lady Rem. And you will join the expedition. You will be better protected while in the midst of those who have seen battle. You will not fall into the wrong hands this way. Rivendell will not long be protection enough for you." _That's right...many of the Elves will be leaving these shores...but all the same..._Thinking they were making a mistake, she tried again.

"So…you're also making me go because I'll be your personal crystal ball. Is that it?" Immediately, their looks darkened, and she regretted saying it.

"You are not to breathe a word of your knowledge to anyone. The future will come in its own time. It would be too dangerous for you to impart anything beyond that which we already know." Elrond's voice held steel in its final knell.

"But what about—" it was Gandalf's turn to interject this time, smoke from his pipe wreathing about his face as he leaned forward to better catch her eye.

"This discussion is over. It has been decided." frustrated, she flopped backwards onto the cushy mattress.

_This is seriously fucked up._

A/N: Special thanks to reviewers: both to those who gave loving praise and those who gave critical feedback. I really needed both in order to see this fanfiction through to the end.

Please continue to read and review! Apologies over the long absence; may it never happen again!


	2. Coming To Terms

Disclaimer: Nothing is or ever will be mine. I'm even borrowing Rem's name (can you guess from where?)

'We should not shed tears.

That is a surrender of the body to the heart.

It is only proof that we are beings that do not know

What to do with our hearts'

~Tite Kubo

"No matter how bad things get, they can always get worse." Rem had never really given credence to the saying. After a couple days, Rem whole-heartedly agreed with its sentiment. She had gone from stressing out over a meaningless test, attending classes, and working long hours behind a deli counter at a grocery store to hard-core weapon training for defense measures, packing her own supplies, and hurrying after the infamous Aragorn as he instructed her in the fundamental art of survival. To sum it up, life currently sucked. It was all actually much harder work than she would have thought. Were she not keen on surviving, if only to find some way home, she'd have given up long ago. She refused to believe that she was stuck here. The tenacious belief that she might have slipped into a coma back in the real world had waned long ago. It was all real enough. Delusions didn't make you sore or solve bad eyesight. In fact, the discovery of Elvish medicine was so far the only plus in landing butt first in this world. Still, there were plenty of drawbacks for her to chew on.

For one thing, Aragorn apparently hadn't been called 'Strider' on a whim when guised as a Ranger from the North. She sometimes had to jog in order to keep up with him. He wasn't impatient or anything. Quite the opposite in fact. He was just irritatingly vigorous for a man well into his eighties—even for one of the Dúnadan. He was keen to get to the next location on the grounds for her next lesson, it would seem. That, or he habitually moved quickly and with unknowing grace. Possibly from living amongst Elves for much of his life.

Boromir had initially become in charge of handling the first of her weapons and defense training. Since she knew for a fact that there would be hand-to-hand combat, she didn't argue. Yet after a bit of verbal instruction in handling a sword with shield, and hardly any sparing, he passed her off to Legolas to learn Archery. Upon learning she had some experience with a bow—that is, if you count three weeks of archery in seventh grade P.E. as 'experience,' he had seemed relieved. He had said that she ought to hone one particular combat style so that she may better defend herself. Archery, he had said, could better serve as protection for her person in that it would allow her to fight while remaining out of harm's way. That, or she sucked too much to deal with and he was trying to be cordial by not saying it aloud. He might have resigned to just having one more burden to protect rather than endure watching her fail. It was also likely that he was rather uncomfortable with her as a student.

Or perhaps he figured she was in no real need of learning everything all at once, and thought to teach her more later on their journey. Whatever the case, she was then left in the Elf's capable hands…Well, supposedly at least. He didn't show up for her first few lessons at the archery range. She felt a little upset for being set aside like that. She did have worth, and was willing to prove it by trying hard. She was willing to learn how to fight. Especially since it was her ass on the line…and Frodo's, she amended. She also harbored a burning desire to prove to everyone, including herself, that she was strong and could endure.

When she had been discovered wandering about—by Aragorn, no less—she'd been placed in Gimli's hands. No explanation had been handed to her as to why her archery instructor had chosen to play hooky. Not that she would have been in the mood to accept his stupid excuses by this point. The Dwarf, at least, was enthusiastic about showing her the art in throwing an axe. Unfortunately, after his (rather lengthy) lecture at the use, history, and convenience of the said weapons, she had trouble actually wielding them. They were surprisingly heavy, and throwing them accurately was no small task. Still, the Dwarf wanted her around, and seemed to enjoy her company once they awkwardly got past the fact he and his kin had saved and effectively kidnapped her. Not the easiest of tasks, but Rem was willing to forgive. Gimli was good natured, if a little rough around the edges. And he gave her his whole attention. Not to say that Aragorn or Boromir didn't…they just seemed…preoccupied. Plus, she was more at ease with Gimli. She knew where she stood with him.

"Ye've got to heave it hard, lassie. From there, it's all in the wrist." He grunted, letting another axe fly toward the designated tree they had been aiming at for the better part of the afternoon. She laughed, picking up a hazel twig and twisting her hair up into a sort of bun like a messy geisha. She was a bit amused by the fact she was so terrible at this. It was either laugh or cry at how pathetic and frustrating it all was, so she chose the former. she needed the stress relief, and crying wasn't really her style…

"I think I just need more practice." She smiled wryly. _Check that. I need to learn._ A smooth voice interrupted their banter.

"What she needs…is a different weapon." She stiffened, having a good idea as to who it was._ Crap. What's HE want?_ She turned, looking him in the eye. He, in turn, studied her. Something she wasn't all that comfortable with. She was wearing a deep red dress today. Another pre-owned gown which fit her better than did the Elvish garments, but still did nothing very flattering for her figure. She borderline felt like a streetwalker wearing it. And while warm, she felt somewhat out of place wearing it. Given that she was more used to wearing jeans. That, and she usually preferred more muted tones: like browns, greens, and blues. Red was…a little out of her league.

"Well, Captain Punctual, any suggestions?" She inquired scathingly. She heard Gimli's muffled snickering, but chose to ignore it for now. The reason she was pissed at Legolas was between her and the Elf-boy. His expression did not change in the slightest. He actually seemed somewhat distracted when he answered her.

"I apologize for my tardiness. It was not my intention…There were other obligations that needed my attention…" he trailed off, his deep blue eyes searching her brown ones. Rem averted her eyes, turning away from him as she tried to resume her lesson with Gimli. Grudgingly, she realized she couldn't drag out an argument with him. She'd cooled down considerably since she'd been ditched for the umpteenth time. Besides, he did apologize just now. And he would soon be helping to protect her life, in addition to their comrades. She knew for a fact how handy he could be in a fight. She would not be a baby. More than she could help, at any rate. She was human, after all. And she would damn well let someone know whether or not they had pissed her off beyond forgiveness. Lucky for him she wasn't the type to hold grudges. Not to say she wouldn't file away his blatant disregard for her under 'D' for 'Douche bag' within the recesses of her mind.

"It's fine…I guess…" She looked back at him sullenly, only to realize his gaze had never wavered from her visage.

"What are you staring at?" she asked bluntly. The Elf shrugged, gesturing that she follow him.

"I'm merely observing you. Come, if you are not well mete for the bow, I propose a dirk." Annoyed, she followed him.

"Funny how that rhymes with 'jerk," she grumbled. Okay, so maybe she was holding a teeny bit of a grudge. He deserved it, though. Being Prince Elf didn't entitle him to snubbing her, let alone without explanation; even if she was a big inconvenience to everyone. It hadn't been her brilliant idea to come along on this quest in the first place.

She was hard pressed to keep her straight face as Gimli muttered to her out the side of his mouth.

"Ye want I should tie him up for you to use as target practice?" It was a losing battle. When their eyes met, her lips broke out into a mischievous smile.

"Maybe not yet…how about after my aim improves?" He nodded, chuckling.

"Fair enough, lassie."

"Now draw back the arrow. Straighten your posture…breathe in, and release." She did as he instructed, exhaling sharply as she let the arrow fly. It skimmed past the target, shattering the quiet of the woods in how it whipped violently through the trees. She sighed tiredly, frustration bubbling back into her veins as she massaged her temple.

"Right. So where did I screw up?" She peeked at him through her fingers. He studied the direction in which the arrow had taken, nodding to himself, before turning to her in order to answer.

"For starters, your breath. You must inhale slowly, allowing it to flow through you; exhale for longer distances, and inhale for short." She rolled her eyes, meandering away in search of her stray arrow.

"Fine." Rem knew she was probably sounding kind of sulky, but she couldn't really help it. She was tired, kind of hungry, and the combination of the two often made her a little grumpy. It had nothing to do with the fact that Gimli had left earlier, having to see to his own preparations for the trip. That and she was alone with a guy who acted like she was beneath his interest. Nope, not a thing. She wasn't feeling abandoned in the slightest around this pompous jerk. She was quickly learning that the jerk in question was neither wishy nor washy, as she might have stereotypically placed him when first hearing Tolkein's written words. Meeting him in person…well, that had certainly shaken up a few assumptions.

For someone who Tolkien described as one who sang beautifully in both gaiety and in touching sorrow, he rarely smiled. At her, anyway. She'd seen brief hints of his grin, directed at others, or perhaps while in idle thought. Determination often dwelt in his turbulent, azure eyes. His movements were nimble and quick; before they had moved their delayed lessons into archery, he had shown her how to use a blade. It had been rather sobering. He could kill with preternatural grace in a cold heartbeat. She could see that potential in him: the skilled assassin when need demanded. Although thankfully, it was directed only at goblins and orcs.

He was infuriatingly distracted most of the time, like his oh-so-important thoughts were some place else. Not that she was demanding much of his attention. To say she was homesick wasn't very far off, and companionship mattered to her more than ever these days. True, she had been a bit lonely back home. But that was her own fault. She was the one that had chosen to transfer schools, leaving her previous college experiences and friends behind. Still…that didn't make her a loner by choice. She had only recently settled in, and so had yet to really meet anybody…somebody besides her mom who took an interest or cared…

She spied the arrow swathed in grass, and bent down half-heartedly to pull it up like a carrot. Legolas was waiting for her patiently as she returned. Resuming her previous stance, Rem inwardly sighed, awaiting further instruction.

"Okay, ready." He circled her, calculating. It made her nervous; it reminded her too much like a vulture. Suddenly, he wrapped his hands around her. Startled, Rem jumped nervously, heart pounding, nearly releasing her arrow. Much to her chagrin, she realized it was only out of necessity. He began adjusting her stance, firmly, much like a ballet instructor or a gymnastics coach: Maneuvering her hips a touch this way, tilting her elbow just so, and moving her head smoothly. From the corner of her eye, she noticed his approving nod, though he still frowned.

"Don't forget to breathe." Doing as he commanded, she released the arrow. Much to her satisfaction, it slammed into the tree, off-center from the target. But still a hit! Rem found her initial Cheshire-cat grin melting into a grimace at her teacher's next remarks.

"Better. But still not good enough. Your hesitation before the initial release—"

"Hey, I hit it this time, didn't I?" She snapped waspishly. She turned around, catching his stony gaze. Sighing, she looked away. Studying the apparent miracle that was her shoe before closing her eyes in defeat. Frustration was boiling inside of her. It had really begun to strike her lately that everything she was coming to learn these past few days would be a part of her future now as well. She apologized quietly, knowing he could hear.

"Sorry…it's just… It's been a long day. I didn't mean to reprimand you like that…I know you're only trying to help me."

"Then let me help you. Fatigue is no excuse—" Her eyes ripped open. Frustration succeeded in boiling over, tipping into other twisting emotions that had been wringing out her heart like a dominos effect. Rem narrowed her gaze as she focused on him; blue met fiery brown.

"I beg your fucking pardon. But I am dealing with something a bit more personal than 'fatigue'…"

"That is irrelevant. You must—"

Rem stalked closer to him, her voice rising dangerously. Rage and sorrow battled inside of her, the nausea of them both tearing at her frayed nerves. He backed up a few paces, perhaps unsure of her sudden unpredictability.

"I've just been dragged into a fucking fairytale from my childhood. I have to deal with knowing that I'll never see anyone I have ever loved ever again. That, and the career I worked so hard for, is gone," She cornered him; grasping his forearms as she forced him to hold her enraged stare. Tears burned in her chocolate orbs, threatening to fall. An unnamed emotion flickered across his features, but she was too far gone to care.

"You all treat me like I'm a burden or a joke, but I am _neither_. I'm out of my element. I admit it. Hell, I'm out of my world and nearly out of my mind these days! My future's gone, my family is gone. So excuse me if I have a little bit of a pity party and mourn the fact that I've lost everything and _everyone_ I've ever known or loved." She hadn't even realized she was crying until she tasted the tears as she spoke. Damn. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry…not in front of anyone, at least. "You can kiss my ass if you think for one second that I can just let that all go without being even the slightest bit –" Without warning, he reached for her, grabbing her by the shoulders and reversing their situation.

"You need to listen to me!" His normally conversational tone was gone: hosting a rising volume that rang with steel.

"No!" She sobbed, frantic to twist out of his arms. He dragged her close, his voice deadly in its growing calm. The fact that he seemed so in control actually scared her a bit. Rage wasn't something that was meant to be contained. She could deal with a natural explosion of emotion. That sort of thing was expected. It was what was normal. But he wasn't normal. Hell, she had momentarily forgotten that he wasn't even human. She couldn't prescribe human behavior to him at all. That had been her mistake. Stormy, turbulent eyes bore into her own, and she wanted to slap him.

"You need to accept things as they now stand. Your previous life may be gone, but it is by no means over. You need to stop this foolishness, Rembrance. Cease crying, because giving in to this distraction—this sorrow—will not help matters. FOCUS!" Rem's sobs tapered down, humiliation and shock jolting her. Without meaning to, she grasped his tunic, wringing it in her hands as her crying gave way to hiccups. Hesitantly at first, he hugged her to him, soothingly rubbing her back in an awkward gesture. She had a sneaking suspicion that he'd only held her so she was too close to twist up the fabric of his shirt. But it wasn't so bad…being held. Even if she was being held by him. She was quivering like a leaf, emotionally drained, . Still, he pressed onward with a few more words, feeling that she needed to hear this.

"You need to focus; whether in or out of combat. Giving in to distraction, no matter its guise, will aid no one." Deep down, she knew he was right. She ought to focus…not on what she once had, but on what she now planned to do. It was a lesson for both on and off the battlefield…Surprising, sagely advice, coming from someone she had started to judge as emotionally constipated.

On some level, she could hardly believe Legolas was comforting her. Especially since his ridged posture in the way he held her screamed discomfort. She wasn't having a picnic herself. She'd rather have been comforted by Aragorn. At least he understood loss. There was a tangible 'new-ness' about the Elf when it came to consoling a crying, mortal female. The un-empathetic approach in his speech, however true in its general point, was proof enough. Not to mention the way he next hastily pushed her away. For once he would not meet her eyes. Like he was afraid she might burst into tears all over again. Rather, he focused on a point just beyond her shoulder as he addressed her.

"Understand?" Scrubbing at her face with her sleeve so that she might look somewhat presentable, Rem nodded. Another smile beginning to crack about her lips, in spite of herself. In spite of everything.

"For now." His eyes widened, as though unsure whether or not she meant that in jest. But they quickly returned to normal, as he resumed the lesson, moving forward. As she ought to do… For now, any way.

The days grew shorter, and with their arrival the inevitable departure for the quest hovered closer. She scarcely saw her comrades these days. She hadn't seen much of the hobbits, save at meal time when most of the house of Elrond would gather in the Great Hall. While immensely curious about them, she decided against approaching them. Despite the secrecy of the interrogation she had engaged in with Elrond and Glandalf, word had somehow still spread. She felt a criminal convicted before her trial, what with the rumor going around that she had been ripped from her own world by Saruman himself to aid in the capture of the One Ring. Another rumor had her pegged as a psychic that was a necessary tool in the continued preservation of the secrecy of the Ring and the one who carried it. The latter was closer to the truth, or so she told herself. In any case, she wisely left the hobbits alone. Besides, she would surely get to know them when they were running from danger: nothing bonds people like life-or-death experiences. But those concerns were the least of her problems right now.

Rem felt her gut twisting itself up into a knot at the prospect of setting out with the fellowship. She hardly felt ready. Although her archery had improved, she was still far from a perfect marksman. Yet her improvement seemed satisfactory enough for Legolas in that she was being left to her own devices. Although he had hardly spoken to her since that day…not that he was one to confide in her prior to the incident. He had just taken to avoiding her even more whenever possible.

Every time she rounded a corner and came across his shadow, or heard his voice, he would politely excuse himself from whatever company that was present, and hastily beat a retreat. _Maybe...it's just my imagination...? _She paused, taking the time to examine a dress she was packing. _Yeah, and maybe pigs can fly._ Rolling it as small as she could in a somewhat neat fold, she stuffed it into the bag that had been given to her by Lord Elrond, among other things. She had even been provided with a bow and a quiver of arrows, as well as an Elvish blade that was slightly longer than a dagger. The supposed dirk Legolas had once mentioned. The latter could be used not only in hand-to-hand combat, but also for throwing, and more practically used to fletch arrows. But she guessed that if she were to use it as a weapon in combat, she'd be shit out of luck. Rem had no delusions about her 'skills'. Skillful fighting took years of training, or at the very least more time than she'd been afforded. Rem highly doubted she would have much use for it aside from its third designated implementation.

So, she was about as prepared as a hobbit in general terms of being ready for a spar. Except, if she remembered correctly, hobbits had superb aim in throwing, and were rather clever. She only happened to have the advantage of height. And maybe weight. _If I'm lucky, some Orc will get careless, and I can sit on him and crush him to death._ She mused wryly. She wasn't fat…just potentially muscular; She was 5' 8" and 165 pounds. Since she spent a great deal of her time reading or studying outside of work, she didn't get out much. Plus, she was hardly motivated to work out what with sports bras not being in her size. Lane Bryant didn't exactly carry sports bras.

Now, she was facing down the horror of having to wear a corset. Every damn day. No switching between another and washing the one she wore. She had to wear the same article of clothing until she had the luxury to wash it when the fellowship was near a body of water and something life-threatening wasn't happening.

If she could, she really would pack another. But the corset had actually been specially made for her. Attaining another was out of the question, given the time frame. Elves, apparently, didn't usually have her body type. She'd gotten the hint with how many dresses Eldewyn had brought her and then been rejected for not fitting right. The ones she had now were acceptable only because they had been altered in many ways. She'd felt mortified when Eldewyn and another Elf by the name of Nienna had banded together in order to craft both the corset and alter several garments for her. They'd had to take measurements, and while they had been polite and not at all undignified about it, she wanted to be swallowed up by the floor. She was obviously a curiosity to them.

The corset had a burnished rose type of coloring, beautifully made as it did its job of strapping everything into place accordingly. However, since it was a bit complex in the lacing, she could only loosen the ties at night rather than remove it entirely to sleep. Putting it on would take a while. Something the entirely male fellowship would find inconvenient should she remove it entirely every night. Traveling was going to be a bit of a bitch. Comfort would be a thing of the past. She winced; hygiene was going to feel like a shot in a million, here. But at least she had been provided with more than one pair of underwear. Although she really wished she had been provided pants and tunics as opposed to dresses...But no one seemed keen on obtaining them for her. Cross-dressing, it would seem, was looked down upon.

As it stood, she had only one set of clothes, aside from what she would be wearing. She had smuggled in two pairs of breeches, arguing that they would be hidden by the skirts of her dresses. She had wanted to take two sets of spare clothing, but as of so far, the outlook of space for it didn't seem possible. She had also pack the straight razor presented by Eldewyn, a leather strap by which to sharpen it, some of the soap condiments from the bathtub, and a towel with several wash cloths. Rem almost felt like she was filching things from a hotel room she was about to check out of. But she didn't feel bad enough to return anything. She wanted to be somewhat clean, in spite of the odds stacked against her…

Eldewyn had also given her a hairbrush, a sort of toothbrush, and some napkin-shaped cloth to use for her 'business,' as the Elf put it. She had even been given a cone-like cup for 'that time of month'. Odd, but then again, tampons weren't really to be expected. Thinking about it, she stuffed some more of the napkin-toilet paper. _Better safe than sorry._ She thought. Who knew if or when she'd get more? She may be forced to use leaves after a while…

She added a blanket, and almost added a pillow from the bed when a sudden thought occurred to her. Instead, she added the second pair of clothes. She smiled to herself, feeling a bit like a genius. _There…I can just use those as a pillow._ She sighed, sitting back on the bed, taking in the lovingly crafted ceiling. _I think I'm ready…_Rem frowned._ Well, packing-wise. Physically and mentally, I'm screwed. _

"…May the blessing of Elves, Men…and free folk, go with you."

Rem's hand tightened its grip on her pack strap. So this was it. She was setting out from one alien place to another. As she trudged with the others toward the stone archway that marked the edge of the courtyard, she reflected on the fact that at least she knew what to expect on this journey. It comforted her very little. Besides, her presence might change everything.

And her gut clenched at the thought. Catching sight of Aragorn and Arwen as they gazed at another, two hearts separated unfairly by the cusp of war, her spirits continued to sink. It was bad enough that Rem felt her heart aching because of her own affairs…Watching them, watching one another, made her want to bury her heart so deep, so that it could never be found again. To remain untouched and unhurt.

Yet what she was not aware of, as they clambered out of the valley, was that other eyes were watching outside of the Fellowhip. They were watching her.

"What are you humming, Lady Rembrance?" Startled, she looked over in the direction of the Hobbits, surprised one of them was even attempting conversation. So they didn't believe the rumors?

"Humming?" She echoed intelligently. One of them, who sat near Bill the pony with a tether in his hand and an enormous pack equipped with pots and pans, gave her a rueful smile.

"Just curious, Lady Rembrance. Sounded lovely, is all." She smiled back, a little embarrassed at his praise, well aware how silent everyone else was in either their fatigue or desire to overhear their conversation. They were taking a short break, as Legolas and Gandalf scouted ahead. The general atmosphere about the group was rather gloomy, and it seemed to be reflected in the weather. The choice in humming the song in question up until recently hadn't been immune either.

"You're Samwise Gamgee, right?" She scooted closer to him. Something everyone else seemed immediately aware of. Or maybe that was just her overactive imagination.

"Yes, but 'ow did you know that, Lady Rembrance?" It was her turn to give him a gentle smile as she hugged her knees, not quite able to prop her chin on them due to generous chest.

"Please, just call me 'Rem'…and honestly…?" She trailed off, thinking of how she could put it. "It's because I read too much." He looked a bit confused for a second, but then shrugged it off as he opened his mouth to ask her something else. But another Hobbit beat her to it.

"But I thought you could see the future or something. What does reading have to do with it?" She half-hazarded a guess that was Pippin. Another Hobbit seated next to him nudged him in the shoulder, affirming her hypothesis.

"Hush, Pip. You're sounding rude." She smiled at them again. But this time, it reached her eyes.

"No, it' fine," she interjected, "I'm actually having a hard time believing this all myself. You see, where I come from, this entire place and most of its history was written down into several books." The last Hobbit, Frodo, furrowed his brow in thought before he spoke.

"But why would they do that? Why would anyone write a history of a place and not expect it to exist?" She looked at him guiltily.

"What do—what do you mean by that?" His blue eyes never wavered from her own as he patiently answered.

"You give yourself away by the way you look at things. At us, the Elves…" he shrugged, lapsing into silence. _Crap. He's more observant than I gave him credit for. _She rearranged herself so that she was sitting Indian Style, and swept her hand through her hair tiredly, wracking her brain.

"You noticed that, huh?" All three Hobbits nodded solemnly, with Pippin shaking his head before noticing the others and nodded furiously. Despite herself, she cracked another smile at his antics.

"Well…the history was never believed because it was written for entertainment. It wasn't based on fact. It was supposed to be fiction. An old English professor wrote it up, and people from my world have enjoyed it all as stories and nothing else."

"English?" Pippin looked perplexed.

"What in the name mithril is that?" Ah, it seemed Gimli had joined the conversation now. The Dwarf in fact scuttled over and sat down next to her.

"Oh…right…We're speaking the Common Tongue, huh?" She smoothed down the skirts of her thick dress distractedly. It was fairly long, but she had insisted she wear breeches beneath it any way. Eldewyn hadn't argued, but she did seem un-approving of the combination.

They all stared at her, gob-smacked. She could even feel Boromir's stare now. Although Aragorn seemed less shocked and more interested than the others, judging by the look on his face. She supposed it was because he'd been around the block or two. _Probably wouldn't be easily shocked after reaching 80, now would I?_

"What did you think you were speaking?" Samwise asked timidly. She sighed, answering as best she could.

"Look, I didn't realize I was speaking it. There are some things you don't pause to question when you're torn from one world and thrust into another. And one of them happens to be how it is you're able to communicate with anyone else, so long as you're able to do so." Frodo nodded, deep in thought.

"I suppose that makes sense." The others seemed to agree, as no one else continued on the subject. Or they thought the matter was no longer worth pursuing. As Gandalf entered the clearing, followed closely by Legolas, Samwise spoke again, drawing their brief attention.

"So what was it you were humming? Will you sing it this time so I can hear it better?" Rem felt her cheeks burning scarlet as the Elf and Ranger seemed to pause in order to over-hear her answer. She didn't know whether to hug him or hurt him. On one hand she was flattered that he cared, and on the other she kind of wanted to melt into a puddle of mortification for what she felt obliged to say.

"I'll sing it to you once we reach the rocky outcropping we'll be staying at in several days time." Hopefully, he'd forget her promise and just let it go. They began picking up their things, settling them on their backs and heading out once more. Samwise coaxed Bill away from eating the grass, waddling beside her as he commented.

"I'd like that, La—er, Rem. But how do you know…?" She smiled at him, steadying her pack with one hand as she used the other to gesture at her noggin, smiling ruefully at him.

"Trust me." He smiled up at her, kicking his feet in slight chagrin. Yet at what, she wasn't sure.

"That I will, Miss Rem. I'll do that." Rolling her eyes at herself once he had averted his gaze, they wandered onward.

A/N: It's note-worthy to admit that I chose to make Rem busty because, quite honestly, I have the same issue. Face it: we've all got issues when it comes to finding appropriate clothes.


	3. Bonding

Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me, so no profit is or ever will be made. Just please enjoy the story; a hodgepodge and collaboration of unoriginality with a dash of eccentricity.

A/N: Warning to all: there is a small portion of lyrics Rem sings ('It Will Be Me' by the phenomenal Melissa Etheridge)…

'Yes, there is no Fate for us

Only those who are swallowed by

Ignorance and fear and miss a step

Fall into the rapid river called Fate'

~Tite Kubo

The clatter of steel ripped apart the silence of the mountain air. There was brief pause before Boromir resumed, complimenting his latest students prior to the shrieking echo of metal. He seemed in good humor, enjoying himself as much as the Hobbits, if not more so. Aragorn looked on, watching them with a keen interest as he reflectively chewed a crisp apple.

"Move your feet." He instructed from the sidelines. Rem was perched on a rock, kicking her legs idly and enjoying the cold breeze. Again, she was very glad to be wearing breeches beneath her thick dress. Frodo sat to her right, with Sam joining them every so often between cooking, and looked on at the scene beneath them. Rem couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

Why hadn't she drawn a response like from Boromir? The man in question was grinning fiendishly, going easy on his opponents. S

_Come to think of it…I haven't been able to draw much a 'response' from anybody…_She frowned at the thought. Once in a while Pippin would throw in a question, and Merry would rescue him from participating in the conversation. She hadn't yet figured out if he was trying to keep him from pestering her by asking her impertinent things or if he was protectively shielding his cousin from having to deal with her. But at least the Took was incorrigible, despite his kinsmen's best attempts. While Samwise was kind and would occasionally talk to her, the others kept to themselves. Gimli didn't count: he was as protective of her as ever, striding by her side whenever possible, but he was hardly the conversational type.

She glanced toward Legolas, where the Elf was looking into the distance with his long sight. Then towards Gandalf and Gimli, who were conversing too far away for her to pick up on what was being said. She sighed, wishing she knew what it was they were thinking…and how deep it was that they really regarded her with suspicion. As if feeling her eyes, the Elf suddenly glanced in her direction, intently studying her. She looked away quickly, her face feeling inexplicably hot.

Unfortunately, she caught Samwise looking at her inquisitively.

"Weren't you going to sing that song you were humming, Miss Rem?"

_Crap. He remembered._ She felt her throat constrict with nerves at the thought. Though that didn't stop a bubble of amusement rising up; despite her cajoling, he wouldn't call her plain 'Rem'. It was kind of endearing in a weird sort of way.

"Uh…sure…but," her thoughts rocketed about as she heard Boromir and the Hobbits below begin to roughhouse.

"All right, now that's enough…"Aragorn's voice drifted over to them, and there was a dull thud as the hobbits succeeded in knocking him over. Rem stood up hastily, brushing down her skirt as she played for time.

"I was hoping to postpone that until right before we settle down for the night…"Both Samwise and even Frodo were giving her questioning looks. Unable to face their accusing eyes, she glanced toward Legolas, who had not yet dropped his stare. Startled by the poisonous look he was giving her, she was about to turn away again and change the topic of conversation when Samwise interrupted her, his gaze passing through to something in the distance.

"What is that…?"

"Nothing, it's just a wisp of cloud." Gimli interject gruffly. Legolas turned swiftly and surveyed the scene, just as Boromir spoke again. Anxiety laced his tone.

"It's moving fast…and against the wind…" Rem's face paled in realization. _Shit—I forgot about those stupid crows!_ She bolted toward a pan of water that was residing by the fire—the base for some soup or tea Samwise was about to brew. Before the hobbits or anyone else could question her as to what the hell she was doing, Legolas' voice caused everyone to leap into action at his next words.

"Crebain, from Dunland!"

"Hide!" Aragorn yelled needlessly.

Rem succeeded stepping on the hem of her skirt, stumbling toward a few of the rock outcropping, panic rising in her harsh rasping of the crows were growing loud in her ears, not allowing her to think. How had she forgotten about the damn crows?!

But all at once, she found herself winded as someone grabbed her about the waist, spinning her toward the bushes. Before she could breathe, she found whoever it was that had thought to grab her sandwiching himself over her protectively just as the crows descended. She twisted her head slightly, her eyes wide as the crows—cawing raucously—flew violently about the area. It vaguely reminded Rem of Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds.' Then she became aware of who exactly had come to her rescue.

Legolas ignored her, studying the birds intently. Rem felt her face growing hot; a continuing occurrence these days. His arms were braced on either side of her to spare her the full extent of his weight. But they still caged her, and his knee was set against her thigh intimately. He seemed both unaware and unaffected by the contact, whereas she wanted felt trapped and vulnerable beneath him. Suddenly reminded of how tight and constricting her corset was, she tried to regulate her irregular breathing.

Rem shifted uncomfortably, brushing against him as she attempted to put more nonexistent distance between them. The flush in her cheeks deepened when she accidentally brushed against him. Despite his beautiful features, Legolas was very much male judging by the anatomy she had come into contact with. She froze, cringing, not making eye contact by scrunching her eyes shut.

She noted, if not for the first time, that there was a faint smell of sandalwood about him…Or maybe that was a blend of cinnamon? It was a masculine, spicy and earthy smell, something that was purely 'him.'. _He smells better than me…isn't that wrong, somehow…?_

All at once, he sat up. Daring to peek, she felt herself being hoisted up and pushed to her feet as they both scrambled to leave the confines of the bush. Or rather, she scrambled, and he nimbly bolted away from the whippy outcropping of tangled, brown vegetation. He fixed her with what she took as a dark look over his shoulder, before spinning around at the sound of Gandalf's voice.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras…"

"Do ya think she saw that comin'?" Rem overheard Pippin muttering out the side of his mouth.

"Hush, Pip!" Merry snapped.

"Bite me, Peregrin Took." she answered through clenched teeth.

"But did you not see it?" She whipped her head toward Boromir, surprised he was speaking to her at all. Glancing toward Gandalf to make sure he would not overhear, she replied.

"I knew…But I was distracted." He gave her a withering look before making to turn away and gather his things. But she grabbed him at the elbow, keeping her grip strong as she lashed at him verbally. He seemed a little taken aback, if nothing else.

"I'm human, dumb-ass. Believe it or not, I'm prone to making mistakes…just like you." She threw his arm away from her like he had burned her, crossing her arms defensively as she continued waspishly.

"So before you go and point your finger, just realize you're only doing so because it's easier than actually doing anything yourself." She stomped away, making a B-line for Samwise, who was hesitantly offering Rem her pack, which he had grabbed before hiding with Frodo. She took it graciously, stomping down her temper as she smiled at the thoughtful Hobbit.

She could still feel Boromir's eyes burning into her back, so she glared at him before doing another emotional 180 and striking up conversation with Gimli in low tones. The dwarf frowned in the man's direction before obliging the young woman in conversation, stroking his beard in thought.

He continued to stare until they finished breaking camp, unaware that Legolas was watching them both.

Darkness swept in quicker than Rem would have thought possible; it seemed they hadn't traveled very far from their previous site. But then, she hadn't really been paying attention to her surroundings. She had been concentrating more on ignoring Boromir. The man hadn't stopped staring at her since their little confrontation earlier. It was a little irritating.

She felt very self-concious with him looking at her like that. When they finally stopped to make camp, she had carefully moved her things as far away from him as possible. Samwise prepared their meal: some bread and cold roast chicken. She thanked him but refused the chicken in lieu of an apple. Having to gut fowl at work was one thing, ingesting it was another. The sky deepened, revealing the blossoming stars in the heavens. She was idly craning her neck to see them as the peach and yellow rays of twilight faded away when she was startled back from her thoughts by someone addressing her.

"Huh? Sorry, what?" She looked at her companions guiltily.

"Samwise was wondering if you would sing." Frodo answered calmly. Samwise blustered next to him, packing away the remaining food. She blinked owlishly, somewhat disbelieving as to how much Sam wanted to hear the song. But then, as she thought about it, it was one of the only forms of entertainment in this world…Plus, if memory served her correctly, he had a love of poetry and ballads. So it was reasonable he would be eager to hear something of which he had never come across.

Dusting off her hands, and rearranging herself so that she was facing everyone, she nodded, trying to keep the butterflies at bay.

"Yeah…sure thing." She smiled apologetically. "Right now?" At Samwise's enthusiastic nod, a smile broke out on her face despite how nervous she was.

"Okay…Um….I apologize in advance for not being able to compare to…well…I don't sing very much…"She scratched her head awkwardly, taking in the Hobbit's eager expression. Everyone else was regarding her with curiosity and feigned courtesy.

" If you hear a voice

In the middle of the night

Sayin' it'll be alright

It will be me

If you feel a hand

Guiding you along

When the path seems wrong

It will be me

There is not mountain

That I can't climb

For you I'd swim through

The rivers of time

As you go your way

And I go mine

A light will shine

And it will be me…"

She warbled on, gaining a bit of confidence once she dropped her eyes and gazed out at the horizon. It helped her to forget that she was at the center of attention. She usually only sang in the shower.

There was an awkward silence once she finished, where Rem felt her heart constrict in fear._ Shit.. I knew I shouldn't have sung…_ Her thoughts were interrupted by a welcoming sound.

"Where did you learn that?" Samwise was regarding her with something akin to awe. She felt something loosening inside when she realized he had liked it.

"…From a friend." Rem answered evasively. She wasn't about to get into a conversation about recordable music from her world…her explaining the concept would be like the deaf leading the blind. She would probably make them only more confused. Besides, she thought that maybe, if given the chance, she really could be friends with Melissa Etheridge…

"Do you know any more?" Surprisingly, the question had been asked by Merry. She was about to answer when Gandalf cut her off warmly.

"That's enough for one evening…I'm sure Rem will oblige another night." He gave her a small, roguish wink before shepherding the others toward their bags. Gimli placed his hand gently on her shoulder, and a question rose in her mind at the gesture.

"G'night, Rem." He mumbled hoarsely. The dwarf then turned on his heel and went about his business. For a moment, she didn't move, somewhat baffled. _Did he have tears in his eyes…?_ She looked over at him, getting up to follow suite. _Nah…maybe I just imagined it…Besides, I didn't sing that badly._

She set up her sleeping roll, and shivered as she folded herself into it. Despite the chilly temperatures, given that they were higher up on the mountain, there would be no fire tonight.

Gandalf insisted that they take every precaution so as not to be espied by the enemy. It made sense, but that didn't change the fact it was still freezing. Peeking out from her thick coverlet, noting that Boromir was still regarding her with a look that made her go all hot and cold at once in awareness, she promptly pulled the fabric over her head. She'd rather not be observed. Especially as she settled for the night. _Does he really have to be so obtuse?_ She wondered. _One minute he won't even look at me and acknowledge I exist, and the next he regards me like I'm the only thing that does…_She fumbled with her dress, succeeding in loosening it from her shoulders as she next attacked the laces of her corset.

While unusual for said garment to host the binding laces at the front, as hers did, it had been made that way for the purpose of her convenience. After all, traditional corsets were made so that they could be applied with teamwork…something unfeasible while in male company.

She immediately felt relief as the normally stiff garment loosened and allowed her to breathe deeply. Her breasts ached slightly from being constrained so tightly for the better part of several days. While this was not her first night out in the open, these past few nights she had not even bothered to loosen her undergarment because she had been too exhausted to do so. Now though, with sleep farther from the recesses of her mind than she would like, she allowed herself the luxury.

Yet as silence descended about the camp, she felt safe enough from Boromir's scrutiny to move the fabric away from her face. To her relief, he was in deep conversation with Aragorn. Legolas was nowhere to be seen; either out scouting or answering the call of nature. Shrugging, she resumed laying on her back, looking up at the stars.

They were alien to her…and yet…their glittering sustenance sparkled above, just as the ones at home did. And that gave her some comfort.

Rem awoke several hours later, disoriented as she tried to figure out what had roused her. Hearing an immense snore that could put any chainsaw to shame, she cast a disheveled look at Gimli. _Ah…now I remember…I dreamt I was being attacked by bears._ Bracing herself against the freezing air, she shucked out of her sleeping roll and dragged it away from the comatose Dwarf. Another immense snore erupted from the dwarf, making Rem wonder if he had always done so in his sleep, or if she had only just noticed because she wasn't as bone-weary as usual.

Satisfied with her new placement, she glanced up to take in her surroundings. Surprisingly, she found that she was now closer to Legolas. But she didn't mind too much as he was in fact asleep. Sitting down on her bedding, she fought back a yawn as she took in his peaceful features. _Wait…are his eyes open..?!_ Leaping up, she rushed to his side, alarmed that he didn't seem to be breathing.

She hovered over him anxiously, her breath coming quickly as fear began to set in. She strove to remember the first aid instruction she had received in high school as her mind whirled in a nauseating spin. She pinched his nose shut and leaned over his supine form, intent on giving him CPR.

However, without warning, he came violently awake, struggling out of her hold and yelling at her in Elvish. Biting back a shriek, she reeled back and fell down on her rear. Camp came to life at once, as many dove for the weapons in case of attack. Upon realizing it was nothing of the sort, Aragorn intervened, putting a placating hand on Legolas' chest while Rem wriggled backward as far as she could. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Boromir's rough hands gently cupping her shoulders in a squeeze what was probably meant in a calming gesture. He had probably thought it best to keep her from blindly scrabbling over the side of the cliff. Yet all it did was make her heart race at his unwelcome proximity.

Luckily Gimli came to her rescue as he bumbled over, causing Boromir to relax his grip so that she felt more in control of the situation. Legolas continued to glare venomously at her as Aragorn muttered something to him in Elvish before regarding Rem.

"What is going on, here?"

"Y-you weren't breathing!" Rem brushed Boromir's hands aside, and he let go willingly. "Your eyes were open and I thought that—"

"That's no reason to pinch my nose shut!" Legolas fumed.

"I thought you were having some sort of seizure or cardiac arrest" She retorted acidly. "I was going to give you CPR!" There was a pause.

"What in Middle Earth is CPR?" Samwise asked hesitantly.

"It's where you blow air into someone else's body," Rem explained hotly, "If someone isn't breathing, you pinch their nose shut and give them mouth-to-mouth—"

"Sounds like kissing," Frodo said quietly.

"—and then you pound on their chest to get their heart beating!" She finished; her face was flushing red in embarrassment and she was grateful that it was too dark for anyone to really see. The wizard spoke next, his voice dry with amusement.

"A practice from your world, no doubt?"

"Yes!" She shot back angrily, "and it's not kissing!" Frodo wouldn't look her in the eye, and though it could have been shadow, she could swear he was trying not to smile. Gimli spoke next, hands idly on his axe as he attempted to lighten the situation.

"That stuff wouldn't work on a Dwarf, Missy…Our chests are like iron."

"No one would want to put their mouth over yours any way." Legolas snapped. Before Gimli could respond to the verbal barb, Aragorn spoke, somewhat patronizingly.

"Elves sleep with their eyes open, Lady Rem. And they slow their breathing." Rem looked at him, incredulous.

"It's 'Rem!' And that's just creepy!"

"I suggest we get some more rest before the sun rises." There was no doubt about it; his tone had gone from patronizing to amused in thirty seconds flat. Everyone went back to their sleeping areas, and all was quiet, save for Pippin.

"My chest is feelin' a wee tight. I think I need some of that CPR stuff." There was laughter in his voice, but an answering thump told her with much satisfaction that Merry had succeeded in hitting him for her. She was really starting to like Meriadoc. She noticed that Legolas' was still looking at her accusingly. She narrowed her eyes at him defensively.

"What!?"

"What you did was considered medicinal from your world?" He whispered scathingly in disbelief.

"Well excuse me!" she replied acridly, "Next time I think you need help I won't bother!" She stood up, scooping up her pack before stomping away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, louder this time. She looked back at him, stopping for a second to answer.

"To the 'little girl's bush'…you nearly scared the shit out of me!" Unused to such coarse language—from a young woman no less—it took a second longer for him to respond.

"Don't wander too far from camp; stay where I can hear you."

"yeah…wouldn't want to spare you the pleasure of listening to me pee…" She muttered darkly.

A/N: please read and review!


	4. Falling snow

Disclaimer: Rights to Lord Of The Rings doesn't belong to me and never will.

A/N: As the semester rears its head, updates will begin to come slower. So Please be patient! Also, please review ^_^

'We are drawn to each other

Like drops of water, like the planets

We repulse each other

Like magnets, like the colors of our skin'

~Tite Kubo

The snow crunched beneath Rem's feet as she walked gamely on. Memories, like bubbles darting toward the surface, were coming back to her. The longer she was in this strange place…the clearer they became. She could recall words, spoken with her father's voice. Many of them had been Tolkien's. But the cadence of them held such a familiarity that it no longer mattered. Especially now that she was living within the heart of them.

Rem had all but repressed the thought of them for years. In the time it had taken for her father to turn into the shadow she came to regard him as, she had tried locking them all away. She had even gone several steps further. She sold her stupid books as soon as she had been able; recalled the burning warmth of three quarters in her palm as she handed the poisonous literature away in exchange to a little boy at the garage sale. She could even remember the disappointment in her mother's eyes that day, and her cajoling voice later on.

"He's your father, Rem…you shouldn't shut him out." She winced, pretending it had to do with the freezing wind swirling around her. Better to pretend it was in reaction to where she was rather than where her mind had been. _No, stop thinking about this…_She bit her lip, struggling through the deeper drifts. Any way, her mother had been wrong, she thought warily. She had every right to shut him out. Because he had shut them out…

She started moving again, hardly aware that she had even paused. Rem stumbled slightly as she managed to find a rock hidden beneath the wet, packed snow. A full month had passed since her entry to this land, and she was starting to numb herself to the concept that this…this could end up being her home. The feeling of surrealism had since peeled away, leaving her feeling exposed to the elements. Her circumstances had changed, as well as her reality. Now, she felt lost. She had no real idea what to do with herself, here. Other than try to stay alive, of course. She had no real purpose among this entourage…and she could only hope that her presence alone didn't derail it from its intended course.

Her home, her life, felt like a far off dream she had since woken from. Little luxuries, things she had taken for granted, seemed as though they had been too good to be true. _I miss indoor plumbing_. She thought glumly. If there was one piece of technology she was loath to part with, it was definitely that. If she ever saw a porcelain throne again, she'd probably kiss it. Admittedly after disinfecting it properly.

The comfort of relieving oneself indoors, having hot water readily available, was dearly missed. As was toilet paper. The butt-wiping tissue was actually high on the list of things she intended to hoard should she ever manage to return. While she was stuck here for the time being, a small part of her secretly hoped that all was not lost; that one day she could go back to her own world. Even if it took months. Though it would be more logical to assume it may take years. The One Ring had been found, and plunged this already archaic and technologically backward world into a frenzy of activity on both sides. Soon the chaos of war would erupt and reign in its stead, and she would just have to keep her head down until it was seen until the end. Though she'd certainly be a sight to see if and when she actually made it back. Her level of hygiene was nowhere near satisfaction. She now saw that she had been fairly sheltered and taken much for granted back home.

As it stood, Rem had only been able to bathe a handful of times. It had been no picnic, either. When there was water available, it was really cold, and not deep enough for her tastes. Her comrades seemed to think her habit of bathing in every minor body of water the Fellowship came across frivolous. She couldn't care less. Lately, she had even resorted to using snow. Granted, the latter was used for minor things like washing her face or superficially scrubbing her hair. But she stubbornly refused to trek all the way to Mordor smelling like an Orc.

Being clean was even worth being chaperoned while she did it. It had been humiliating at first, like her experience of being 'guarded' while with Gimli's kin upon first arriving in Middle Earth. But over time she got used to it. Funnily enough, the Dwarf himself would often stand guard. She actually preferred when he did; she trusted that he would keep his back turned. It was only when Boromir took charge of that duty that she felt uneasy.

True, he was a man of considerable honor and virtue...to the rest of the known world, at least. Obviously she knew where his good intentions would eventually lead him…should this waking story actually play out like those words inked out on pages in books far away. Though Rem blamed the Ring's influence on that debacle. It seduced and weakened those with who were most susceptible. He was vulnerable and it merely took advantage; like handling a piece of glass only to be badly cut.

But…there was something a little off about him. Like he had some sort of hidden agenda with her. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

He had not touched her since her CPR mishap, and had not made to do so again. Perhaps he could feel the tightening in her shoulders from that night: tense and unwelcoming under the weight of his hands. He had even begun to study her less and less, in face of others at least. But that didn't mean she wasn't aware of his eyes now and again. It was possible that she was probably being paranoid about the whole thing. Still, it didn't keep her from breathing a secret sigh of relief whenever the lord of Gondor did not take up the duty.

Come to think of it, she wasn't all that comfortable when the Elf had to stand guard as she bathed either. True, he eventually stopped acting so hostile toward her: making sarcastic remarks whenever she asked an evidently stupid question. But he continued sending unfriendly looks her way as the weeks passed.

Apparently pinching his nose had truly been an affront. Or maybe it was because she had managed to sneak up on him. She wouldn't doubt that he had a big ego. Besides, he was over a millennia old. There were probably few who could take him by surprise. Not only that, but nudity was evidently something he was more than comfortable with. He had no qualms in turning his head over his shoulder, facing her without warning in order to urge her to finish with alacrity. Each time she had been in real danger of flashing him a glimpse of her birthday suit.

Catching an eyeful may not bother him, but it sure as hell left her feeling violated. _The jerk…_

Coming back to reality, she realized the falling snow was thickening, nearly obscuring her vision. Wrapping her traveling cloak about her more fiercely, she struggled forward, cursing Saruman, whom she knew was responsible for the sudden turn in the weather.

"Fucking asshole…." She muttered bitterly, unaware that Legolas had heard her in passing. Crossing back and forth, looking out with his Elvish eyes at the gathering clouds, he pretended not to hear the girl's rude cursing. He had taken it upon himself to monitor the fellowship's progress as they marched through the deepening snow. Blessed with the blood and therefore inherent skills of his people, he strode atop the frozen wasteland as lithely as a cat.

Imperceptible to anyone's notice, including Rem, he stole a quick glance at the girl. Like the others, her very being was caked with the frost that permeated the very air. She seemed a small thing, pushing her way through the snow amongst their comrades.

He had not known what to make of her at first. She was an oddity: that much was clear. Legolas, like many others, had heard the rumor that she was of another world. That she had joined their quest because she could divine their future. Something he was too bemused to readily accept. Aside from her strange attire from when she had first drawn his gaze, she did not seem altogether unworldly. Out of sorts, perhaps…especially with those wire spectacles she had first worn, but no more than that. It was more likely she had been…encouraged…to accompany them so that Mithrandir could better keep an eye on her. It would seem she was a threat in enemy hands, if nothing else.

He had taken to studying her shortly after her arrival in Imladris: the unpredictability and informal attitude in her behavior piquing his inquisitive nature. It was one of the reasons he had easily relented to Boromir's insistence in teaching combat to the girl. She was nothing special, from what he could tell. She was voluptuous, and perhaps fair by the standards of her race. But in the centuries past he had seen fairer, and far lovelier beings than she. Not that he was making judgments based by appearances. Old as he was, he was not fool enough to do so.

And yet, young as he was by the measure of his own race, he was sometimes more impulsive than was best. Such as when he unveiled his friend's identity at the Council, much to Aragorn's chagrin; such as now, as he had not desisted in rashly noting the girl's every move. He forgave himself the latter, however, in light that he did not yet know her intentions. This frustrated him. He had not yet mastered discipline of such emotions. When they presented themselves: quickening within his blood, they filled up his entire being.

He hated such a loss of control. It aided him very little: when the iron bands he tried to keep on his normally passionate nature were loosened in the same way as could be found in mortals. It caused him to continue being treated as a youngling amongst his people, when he sought to prove himself time and again that he was more. And this girl…this strange young woman, seemed to encourage mercurial behavior. He could even sense how she both thwarted and drew others among the Fellowship to her…especially Boromir. Like moths to a flame…Not that she was a guiding light, or even a true temptation by his perception. She was vulnerable, with a quick temper, and a smart mouth.

And then there were her large, almond shaped eyes…one could read every telling emotion that darted across those twin brown pools, or even on the rest of her face, for that matter. She was a distraction…and nothing more. It was the best that he could conclude. Yet despite that, in spite of everything, it was not reason enough for any of them not to protect her…At least until she proved unworthy of their trust.

Suddenly, something deep and echoing thundered across the mountain. Pausing at the cliff, he listened intently, his musings forgotten as he concentrated.

"There is a fell voice on the air…"

Rem froze. _Ah, shit._ As best she could, she scrabbled with her cape, keeping it about her as best she could before scrabbling toward the rock wall of the mountain.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" She yelled out. Yet her voice seemed to be drowned out in the rumbling, unnatural storm about them. The snow was inhaling the sound of all. It seemed no one was paying her any heed.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf bellowed. What followed came in a whirl to Rem. One moment, Gandalf's deep voice was resonating within the snowy air, striving to penetrate the threatening clouds above, and the next…Well, it wasn't exactly pleasant.

Glacial chunks of ice and rock came raining down on top of them, and Rem felt herself being consumed by the blanket of hungry snow. Her ankle turned painfully, and the breath froze in her lungs. For a split second, she forgot how to breathe. Panic began to blossom within her breast, and she started to thrash around. Trying to worm her way upward to frozen, clean air…

She felt hands, then…grasping her arm, as if attempting to help her heave through the imprisoning element around them. Gasping, she emerged, face to face with the bellowing Dwarf.

"Are ye all right, lassie?"

"F—fine Gimli…" She nodded, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Her right ankle was throbbing, but she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. She twisted her head around, trying to see if everyone else was okay. But something wasn't right…her vision…it…was it growing darker? It was then she became aware of the pain.

Not only within her ankle, which she must had sprained in the chaos of the falling cliffs. But the pain resounding throughout her temple; pounding inside her skull. Before she lost consciousness, it vaguely occurred to Rem how Gimli was shaking her, his grip on her shoulder almost painful as the velveteen darkness enveloped her in a nearly blissful caress.

Movement… She was swaying…_Wait, am I on a ship…? But…that can't be right…_She groggily came to, nausea flittering across her stomach. She was being pressed against something warm, cradled in someone's arms. Her eyes snapped open so fast they watered, and the shock was enough to distract her from the bitter cold. From the pounding reminder of her abused ankle.

Sharp, observant eyes glanced at her before resuming their search of the mountainous landscape. Something hot but suffused with cold—probably awareness or embarrassment— slithered across Rem's skin as she realized that none other than the Elf held her. Without thinking, she started squirming, striving to wriggle out of his grasp. However, his grip only tightened like welded steel. Her heart was thudding inside her chest as she realized he was actually pressing her closer against his clothed chest.

"What are you—Put me down…."he shifted her suddenly, rudely. Probably a not so subtle way of making her shut up. "….Please…?" _Okay, that last part came out as a bit of a squeak but…by God, he smells goo—no, don't go there! Snap out of it!_

"I'm okay! I swear I'm okay! Can you please put me dow—Ow !" As she had been babbling, someone reached out sans her notice and tweaked—or maybe touched—her right foot.

"Doesn't seem fine to me, lass." She glared daggers over at Gimli, who up until now she hadn't realized was striding alongside them. The Dwarf gave Legolas a meaningful look, which for the most part he seemed to return. The former returned his gloved hand to his side and thoughtfully stroked his rust-colored beard that was no longer bedecked by snow.

"You gave us a bit of a scare, Rembrance." She peeked up at her captor, mildly surprised he had even initiated speech. Her heart gave a small lurch for no specific reason at the words, hopping into her throat before she swallowed it back down to its rightful place._ You were…worried about me…?_

Rem then became aware of two things all at once. One, she had awoken in the arms of a man—Elf—she feared being both emotionally constipated and admittedly somewhat attractive. Secondly if he realized that he held any sort of physical appeal toward her, he would doubtless drop her in horror. _Shit!_

"I…erm….Thanks for the ….lift, your highness." She opted for his title rather than his name, feeling it would sound too intimate, and that unfortunately gained his unwelcome attention.

"I would prefer you did not use my title." She bristled, then with effort, smoothed down her expression as a thought occurred to her.

"I wouldn't mind the same, actually. Rem is too…formal. I prefer 'Rem,'" Their eyes met for a second time, "if it's all the same to you," she blustered quickly. She didn't like being the subject of such abject attention. It made her uneasy. His reply was clipped, but neutral.

"As you wish."

Thankfully, it seemed going down the mountain took infinitely less time than it did going up it. As was ever the case, there was little conversation as they walked, the dull crunching of the snow beneath the Fellowship's feet reverberating through the chilly air. Legolas, even burdened with Rem's extra weight, did not contribute to the noise as he walked lightly over the ice. He was silent, like a predator.

She tried to remain as still as possible, still uncomfortable with the fact that he was carrying her. He showed no sign of fatigue as of yet, but it wasn't much to comfort. He was probably faking. Rem was many things, but a light-weight wasn't one of them. She also felt nervous being in such close proximity to someone who, at best, probably viewed her as a nusance.

She wished to be as small as possible, not wanting to draw any attention to herself whatsoever. Ever so often, Gimli would give her a reassuring nod or some sort of form of approval for swallowing her pride and allowing the Legolas to help her. She idly wondered how he had convinced the prince to carry her, given that it was a bit out of character for him to ask anything of the Elf…at least not yet. She realized they would be close companions one day…just not yet. Experiences typically bonded others together that no amount of similarities could alone.

As the snow dwindled into slush around them, and the promise of Moria drew near, Rem couldn't help her mood plummet. What in the world was she actually doing here? What was the point? No matter the reasons she had been brought along, there was actually very little she could do. Elrond and Gandalf had forbidden her from speaking of what was to happen, but that didn't quell her desire to break that promise a hundred times over…to protect those who were now protecting her.

Gimli was soon to learn of the death of his kinsmen, Gandalf would perish in defeating the Balrog…and she….she would be left in the aftermath. She had a sinking feeling that the remainder of the Fellowship would be all to glad to be rid of her once she proved how useless she really was as a seer. She wasn't even handy in a fight. Maybe it would be best that she run away as soon as she was able…Before everyone realized the truth. Before, like nearly every man she had ever known, they abandoned her of their own volition.

Unaware of her meanderings, Legolas continued on, quietly cursing his lot. When the girl slipped into unconsciousness, he hadn't even been really thinking. He simply realized that if he did not carry her, Boromir or Aragorn would. Although at the time, they had seemed too distracted in taking care of the hobbits and Bill the Pony than they were of anything immediately out of their line of vision. Understandable, given that the snow was still obscuring much in terms of vision and had not seen the state of the girl. Yet he had taken it upon himself to aid Gimli in digging her out of the snow, and wrap her within his arms.

Surprisingly, the Dwarf hadn't object; something he had been expecting, at least until Gimli had instructed him to 'mind her ankle'…meaning that the girl had injured it in some way. He didn't much want this responsibility, he in fact wanted very little to do with Rem. She made him uncomfortable and thus made him wish to be as far away from her as possible. There was a gasp at his side, bringing out of his bitter thoughts. Both he and Rem paused to take in their surroundings as Gimli choked out in awe:

"The walls….Of Moria." Rem shivered, and without meaning to, Legolas held her closer against him. Briefly…before he realized just who it was he was comforting. Pippin passed by at that moment, making noises that sounded suspiciously like kissing sounds. The Elf gave him a dirty look, before hastily placing Rem on her feet.

"Are you well enough…?" He didn't finish the question. He didn't need to. Before he could, she had begun hobbling away. He watched her, exasperated, before following after her. Unbeknownst to them, a bemused Boromir smiled at the sight. It would appear that they were both….exceptionally stubborn.

A/N: Personal Thank you's to all who reviewed!

estrela jem: I'm really glad you like it! You make me blush ^_^ Also, thanks for

reviewing not only first, but more than once! You're awesome!

Amadoni: I'm glad you think so…Happy you liked the CPR, too! I had fun writing it!

sweetyjg: Thank you! Glad the CPR scene made you smile ^_^

dimari: Thank you very much!

ShadowDmn: Thank you! I really appreciate not only your review, but also the fact you went out of your way to listen to the song ^_^ I'm really glad you like it and that you agree it fits (It namely reminded me of Aragorn and Arwen)! Thank you, again!


	5. A Lack of Purpose

Disclaimer: Everything (save Rem) belongs exclusively to Tolkein (Get it? Saverem, as in Rem Saverem…lol Trigun joke).

A/N: Aww, estrela jem, you make me smile ^_^ Big hug to bronsautracks, too! People like you make this all worthwhile …

'The mane of the sun pouring down

Erases the footsteps on thin ice

Do not fear deception

The world already lies atop deception'

~Tite Kubo

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed…" Gimli's rusty voice carved through the eerie night. He eagerly tapped his axe against the roots of the mountain as if in testimony of this statement. Or perchance, Rem mused, he really had no idea where the hell the secret entrance to Moria really was. In which case he was surreptitiously trying to gauge where the damn thing might be.

Against her better judgment, Rem refused to be carried further, even when both Aragorn and Boromir had made an offer of assistance. In their stead she had grudgingly accepted the Dwarf's shoulder to lean on as the rest of the Fellowship hiked along the lake's edge. She knew the Elf had only been trying to help her, and that she really ought to keep off of her right foot…but still. She just wasn't comfortable with being totted around in a man's arms. It made her feel self-conscious; She wasn't exactly a light-weight, and she hated the idea of being coddled like a child. She was a grown woman, damn it. And she knew better than to distract the best fighters within the Fellowship with her sorry ass.

The Dwarf hadn't pressed the issue. For amongst their companions, he was the most understanding of the desire to stay away from the Elf. Despite that, he seemed un-approving of her hobbling around on her own. So here she was: toddling on an unsteady foot with her sturdy friend.

"Ah, but if their makers forget the location, then their secrets are lost…" Gandalf's echoing voice brought her back to the present. That, and she stumbled over a rock, nearly making her eat dirt.

"…Why doesn't that surprise me…?" Legolas' smooth voice interjected sibilantly. Gimli stiffened at the barb, causing Rem to shoot a nasty look over her shoulder at the Prince of Mirkwood. She patted the Dwarf's shoulder, urging him to trudge onward.

"Frodo….Come and help an old man." Rem winced at the sound of the wizard's voice, knowing what it was they were about to discuss. Looking briefly at the others, she caught sight of Aragorn diverting Legolas' attention, speaking to him lowly in Elvish.

Sighing inwardly, she faced forward once again, navigating her way amidst the rocks and the curiously black lake lapping nearby. _Why can I only speak and understand the Common Tongue, and not anything else?_ She wondered, annoyed. It just didn't make sense….then again, her presence here didn't make sense. Not any of it. Unless of course, Elrond's theory was correct: that she had been summoned here.….She shrugged it off immediately. The idea was too ludicrous.

_No way. Impossible. How would anyone even know who the hell I am—let alone enough to send for me? I'm just a Communication Disorders major at a state college. Besides…_She looked up towards the sky, spying a glittering star both familiar and alien in all of it's Middle-Earthen glory_…I haven't touched those stupid' Lord of The Rings' books since HE left. _

"…Miss Rem?" She glanced over toward Samwise, an earnest look on his face, made pale by the moonlight.

"…D'you want to ride Bill…? We're not up the mountain any more…We're on even ground now and I thought…" he made a gesticulation with his hands, indicating she was free to ride the homey little pony. She smiled at him, touched at his sincerity and concern. But, seeing how laden the beast was with most of their supplies—hers included at the moment—she knew it wasn't very practical…Especially since…

"Thanks, Samwise…but….," she found her eyes had wandered over to Aragorn, who had broken off conversation with the Elf. She met his eyes for a second, before looking back at the Hobbit, "the mines are no place for a pony. So you see I can't…" His face saddened considerably at her words. Aragorn came forward a few paces, clapping him stoutly on the shoulder in quiet agreement.

"We'd best unload him then, Sam."

"Here, let me—" Rem reached toward the large packs strapped securely to Bill's saddle, attempting to help.

"That is unnecessary," Aragorn intoned quietly, making her freeze mid-sentence. " I think it best if you would leave this to us." His eyes said that he had meant the words kindly, but it wasn't easy to take them as such. She stumbled away, Gimli harrumphing as he followed after to steady her limp. The rest of the Fellowship had gathered about the wizard.

It would seem Gandalf had found the door….the silvery outline of it crisply glowing in the darkness, outlining everyone's silhouette nicely. As they approached, his deep, resonating voice carried to her.

"…Speak friend, and enter."

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry inquired.

"Ah, well it's simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors with open." Rem muffled a smile at the supreme confidence of his voice, even as he lapsed into Elvish.

"Annon Edhellen, edro hi amen! (Gate of the Elves, open now for me)" To everyone's surprise but her own, nothing happened. Concern flickering briefly across his features, he tried again, raising up his arms and staff in an extended effort as he spoke now in Quenya.

"Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa! ( Gate of the Elves, listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves)".

"Nothin' s happening." Pippin said needlessly. Gandalf then heaved against the door, pushing on it insistently, muttering as he did of the language and knowledge he used to know…Rem shifted uncomfortably, trying to remember. Wasn't the password more like an answer to a riddle…? It really had been too long since she'd read the damn things... Pippin once again spoke up.

"What are you goin' to do, then?"

"Knock your head against these doors Peregrin Took, and if that does not shatter them, then I will be allowed a little peace from foolish questions…!" He suddenly turned meaningful eyes toward Rem, finishing abruptly as he broke eye contact.

"…I am in need of a little more time." With that, he strode away. Taking the hint, the members of the Fellowship dispersed away from the door. Taking her hand from Gimli's shoulder, Rem hobbled over toward the wizard, who was now fiddling with his pipe. Swallowing, she took a breath before speaking.

"Gandalf, I—"

"Silence." He hadn't yelled at her. But he may as well have. His voice resounded with iron and finality, and when his pale eyes landed on her, she immediately felt nervous. Those eyes were impossibly old.

"You are not to breathe a word. No knowledge from you is to be imparted to myself…" His unwavering focus on her made her want to shiver, " or any other. Is that clear?" Her mind spun in confusion, hiccuping up a defensice reply.

"But I thought that's why you brought me along…? Why else would—how…" She cut off mid-sentence, gathering up her thoughts before piecing together a coherent sentence, "But…what about…if it's really important..?" Without meaning to, her eyes flickered toward Gimli, before finding the Lord of Gondor. _They don't deserve that kind of pain… _

Gandalf cut her off, the knell of his tone ringing in her ears as the blood rushed through her head in humiliation.

"No. Now sit down, Lady Rem." He looked away, clearly dismissing her. Limping, Rem wandered near the lake's edge. Curiously numb, she sat upon a damp stone.

Useless…she was utterly and significantly useless. She didn't know whether she ought to scream or cry. _Why the hell did they bring me, then?!_ Against her will, tears were beginning to burn her eyes. But damn it, she would not let them fall. She WOULD not let them fall! _So…I'm just a burden…? To everyone?_ She hunched her shoulders in shame, though embarrassment played a part in her actions, too.

_So I can't help them…I can't help anyone…_Gimli's voice rumbled pleasantly in the background, and the distant splash of a rock hitting the water's surface broke the air faintly. She felt her heart ache for Gimli…at what he was about to find. Of whose death he was about to discover. And Boromir….poor Boromir. She wiped her sleeve across her nose quickly, not willing to admit she was sniffling as the bottom dropped out of her stomach at the knowledge of the man's eminent death. Granted, she wasn't particularly fond of the guy. He made her uncomfortable most of the time…but still…that didn't mean she wanted him to die! He was a good man, deep down…and …and there was apparently nothing she could do.

Her blurred eyes, hazy with unshed tears, looked up at the strange moon. Luminescent in the shadows that it cast over the enveloping night; cloud and stars were stitched across the cape of the sky, and Rem felt immeasurably small. _Why the fuck am I even here?_

_Will you not let your guard down…even for a moment…?_Aragorn's words lingered within Legolas' mind, despite his best efforts to brush them aside. Granted, there was truth in his friend's observance. His behavior toward the girl was not without reproach. It wasn't that he disliked Rem…. He simply found that she confounded him with any effort he made to aid her.

Her erratic responses to his non-committal presence certainly didn't make the situation itself any easier…Such as when she refused to allow him to carry her any further, and insisted on hobbling around by leaning on the dwarf. He brushed past them, intent on retaining his cool.

His contemplation of the mortal in question was brought to a standstill, however, when his keen awareness picked up on Boromir's stare. Meeting his gaze in equal gravity, he arched an elegant eyebrow in question. The Lord of Gondor aimed to keep a straight face, but amusement flickered across his features nonetheless.

"You watch her often, Master Elf." Legolas shrugged indifferently, noting that the young woman was avidly speaking to Samwise. He did not wish her to overhear this.

"As do you." What little amusement there was vanished, brushed aside like dead leaves before winter. He had the decency to look slightly abashed. Looking away, he gave a vague answer.

"…She reminds me of someone."

"I see." He was mildly curious as to who this 'someone' might be…but his greater concern on the context of Boromir's behavior lay elsewhere.

"Your intentions toward her, then?" the man turned to look at him once again, shadowed brown meeting rich blue. There was a forced lightness in his voice, though Legolas could still detect an old pain, thick with regret.

"Nothing more than to protect her from the dangers that we may face," his eyes darkened, taking in Legolas' visage as he paused before walking past him. "….she is no threat." It was spoken low in volume, meant to catch his Elf ears. Withstanding the urge to shake his head derisively, he followed,

A small thump on the ground near her side made her jump, and she hastily rubbed at her eyes to rid them of any telltale moisture.

"your things, Rem." She looked up, grateful.

"You called me Rem." Aragorn smiled quietly in return.

"I seem to recall your preference in the matter." She nodded vigorously, picking up her own share of supplies that had previously been carried by Bill the pony. Her well-packed satchel, a quiver of arrows, and a bow.

"…yes…I've never really gotten used to that..." He inclined his head, indicating that he wished her to elaborate.

"Where I come from, titles are a thing of the past….at least in modernized countries."

"Modern?" She smiled, nodding once again as she leaned back on her hands dolefully.

"Yeah. Places that have birthed prosperity due to industrial revolution…." She trailed off for a moment, "or rather, places that have twenty-four hour food markets and indoor plumbing…as well as….other stuff." She had been meaning to say 'tampons' but had caught herself just in time. She wasn't about to have a menstrual hygiene discussion with the future king of Gondor. The 'mock-up' cup version that had been provided to her for their journey had not yet been needed, but she was positive mother nature's gift would be putting in an appearance soon. Hence the trail of her thoughts...

There was a bit of an awkward pause, during which Pippin threw another rock into the water, jarring Rem badly. Her eyes widened: how long had he been doing that…?

Aragorn turned, grasping the Hobbit's arm with alacrity.

"Do no stir the water." Scrambling off of her rock with her bag of possessions, she painfully stood up straight.

"Aragorn?" She asked, nearly wincing at how high pitched her voice suddenly sounded. Probably because she was starting to become aware of the enlarging ripples stretching across the lake's surface.

"We should…probably get away from the water!" He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She smiled nervously.

"…You never know…what might be around here." He nodded his head, bemused he went back to distributing their equipment. Preparing the Fellowship to leave at a moment's notice. As the water splashed gently onto the pebbled shore, Rem prayed that it would be soon.

"…It's a riddle." She held her breath, wanting to sigh in relief but knew it would sound inappropriate.

"Speak 'friend,' and enter….What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?" Frodo's voice sounded like clear running water, and Rem greedily drank it in. _He's solved it!_

"…Mellon." With the knell of those two syllables, the great stone doors creaked open, widening as the threshold of a giant's mouth. Perhaps scooting faster than she really ought to with her abused ankle, Rem was among the first to enter the mines. She closed her eyes tightly at the gruff, rumbling baritone of the dwarf's voice as it stretched toward her in the immediate darkness.

"Soon, young lass, you'll experience the fabled hospitality of the dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my lady, is the house of my cousin, Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!" All too quickly, the timbre of Boromir's wary voice cut in.

"This isn't a mine. It's a tomb."

The shattered, broken yell that came from Gimli raked across Rem's spine, and she couldn't help but reach for him in the shadowed gloom. Finding his beard upon first contact, her fingers raced until they came in contact with his arm, and she grasped it tightly in empathy. The clatter of an arrow testified in Legolas' scrutiny of the danger they were now in.

" Goblins!"

"We make for the Gap of Rohan!" Boromir's desperate voice thundered over Gimli's dying sobs, "We should never have come here. Now get out of here, get out!" Knowing what was about to come, Rem tried to drop Gimli's arm, but his hand had snaked across and was now holding hers firmly, unwilling to let go in his grief. _Shit!_ Horrified, she was unsure what to do. Feeling as though she ought to be able to prevent what would happen next, but was failing miserably. Relenting, she stopped struggling and hugged the dwarf to her.

It was a bit uncomfortable, given that he wore a ridged assortment of leather and metal as a sort of armor. But she didn't care. All she could do, she realized as Frodo cried out and Samwise began to shout, was what she was doing right now: comforting a friend.

Light and shadow blended together in a cacophony of motion as grotesque tentacles once again emerged from the deep, lashing away Frodo's kin as he himself was ensconced within the creature's fierce grip. Whether because of the emerging battle, or he was ashamed at showing his tears, Gimli suddenly let go, reaching for an axe as he let forth a battle cry.

Stumbling back, and cursing her still throbbing ankle, Rem struggled to load her bow with an arrow from the quiver she had laced insecurely to her back. The satchel of weaponry nearly fell down her arm at the motion, and she was dangerously close to swearing out loud.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, she took aim at the creature. Aragorn had Frodo in his arms, and Boromir was right behind him as everyone rushed further from the entrance.

"Into the mines!" Rem tried to ignore Gandalf's bellow, concentrating. Exhaling slowly, she released her arrow, and nearly yipped in joy as it soared off and into the slick flesh of the creature. The last of Legolas' arrows was nearly on the tail of her own, and it embedded itself into the eye of the watery beast. Someone grabbed her wrist, and without thinking, she ran with whomever it was that was leading her out of the way of danger, clenching her teeth at the agony that shot up her ankle. And not a moment too soon: Enraged, the squid-like monster had tore at the opening of their entrance, caving them in, and leaving them without further decision.

"We now have but one choice," Rem blinked against the bright stone atop Gandalf's staff, taking their dingy surroundings into account. Looking toward the person who held her hand, she blushed profusely, letting go as if burned. Legolas hardly regarded her, other than meeting her eyes as the same time as she, before coolly resuming his focus on Mithrandir.

"…We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard…" His voice sounded hollow for a moment, and Rem wondered to whom exactly he was speaking, "…there are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." Rem stepped forward, or rather, she meant to. White-hot pain lanced up from her right side, and she nearly fell in the compliance to walk with everyone after the wizard.

Hearing someone heave a quiet sigh, as though life could not possibly be more demanding, she found herself being lifted up into the cradle of a man's arms. Much like she had been before…and by the same person. She failed at muffling a squeak of surprise, to which Gandalf responded.

"Quietly now…" she felt her face burn in slight embarrassment. Hopefully it was too dark for anyone to really notice, despite the wizard's staff."It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed." The last of his words died in a whisper, echoing silently within the minds of all.


	6. Pride & Mishaps

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs exclusively to Tolkien and those to which the series has been licensed—which means I'm out of luck. No profit is or ever will be made.

**A/N: The cover for Road To Rohan features an incident from this chapter, brought to you by the fabulously talented Melibells! Check out her incredible art o . c o m !**

Also, big hug to MaruiBuntaWorshipper for catching that mistake-I appreciate it! Thank you!

'If it rusts, it can never be trusted.

If its owner fails to control it, it will cut him

Yes, pride is

Like a blade'

~Tite kubo

Time seemed to elapse at a standstill for Rem. Minutes seemed like hours, and hours like days. Were it not for the depletion of the pain in her right ankle, she might have suspected time wasn't moving forward at all. The constant dark of Moria seemed to dull her senses, swathing her in a thick and dreary blanket. It felt like forever since she had breathed in a crisp mouthful of fresh air…Something she promised herself to never take for granted again. Especially when said air wouldn't smell like musty corpses and various orc-leavings.

When she had first caught her real whiff of such un-pleasantries, her initial reaction had been to bury her face against Legolas' chest to cover her mouth and nose. His naturally rich, earthy, cinnamon smell helped a bit. Until she realized what the hell she was doing. Or more to the point, she realized the Elf had tensed noticeably in reaction. Probably in disgust. _Oops…_

He did not voice his discomfort, although that was probably because she ceased her actions immediately, braving the putrid smell. Yet, much later, when the oppressive and insistent rank aroma returned, she couldn't help but do it again. As soon as she did, he then abruptly put her down on a rocky outcropping, alarming her. _Crap! Did I piss him off? _But, much to her relief, she noticed the rest of the fellowship was settling down as he stepped away. It would appear that they were stopping for the second time since entering here. So that must mean it was night. Or early morning…

Blowing an inward sigh of relief, she set her bag, loaded quiver, and bow on the ground. Due to her current mode of transportation, she had it all placed on her lap. Though she wouldn't admit it out loud, Rem was more than a little impressed at the fact Legolas had managed to carry both her and her miscellaneous things…Granted, it had been awkward keeping a grip on it all—given why she hadn't first tried to cover her face with a hand as any normal person might do. But she wasn't about to burden anyone else with her personal belongings, even if she was slightly injured.

All were doing their fair share, and she had an inkling that she was doing much less because of her stupid ankle. She was beginning to doubt her own capabilities in taking care of her self in this world. Although, she had felt pretty good about being able to shoot that creature before it managed the cave in. Not that it had served any purpose as it had not stopped anything from happening. It also hadn't been all that hard for her to miss, since it had been huge like a kraken…but still: she had loaded and fired off an arrow under pressure. Which for Rem was quite something, or so she proudly considered.

Coming out of her rumination, she looked up as she noticed someone was offering her a canteen. Gratefully, she smiled up at whoever it was, and froze upon realizing it was the prince of Mirkwood. Taking a generous sip, she handed it back, neither of them quite looking the other in the eye.

"Thanks." Her murmur sounded loud in the darkness, and he nodded brusquely in acknowledgment before leaving her side once again. She watched the others in an anesthetized demeanor, dully noting what all were doing in order to ignore the headache Legolas was beginning to give her. One minute he looked down his nose at her mortal ass, and the next he was almost considerate. She needed him to either be a dick or act like a prince and just stick to it; his inconsistency made her want to scream. Ever since that first day she had laid eyes on him in Rivendell, he had been nothing but mercurial. At least toward her.

He had been pleasant enough at first: observing her with a neutral expression whenever it crossed her notice he was even looking. But over time that neutrality had begun melting into something else. He seemed more acerbic with her; frustrated, perhaps. That is, when he wasn't helping her in some way. It was a weird way to behave. Maybe he was only going out of his way because he was out to prove something…? She shrugged mentally. Whatever his motives, she wanted him to just knock it off. She had enough shit to deal with. Rem fought the urge to sigh.

If only she had opted for psychology instead of communication disorders as a major…although, perchance even that former mode of research was beyond delving into an Elf prince's psyche. He was over a thousand years old…no telling what kind of crazy might be lurking there. But as things now stood, she was only capable of diagnosing mild ear infection causalities, recalling a few anatomical terms, and maybe help rectify a speech impediment. Real useful here in Middle Earth, where a living was earned practically on the edge of a knife…She glanced over toward Frodo and the others. Unless you were a hobbit. Life for them seemed more like the edge of a butter knife…or a spoon…at least if one was still residing in the Shire. These unlucky four had simply been thrust into a bad situation by being in the wrong places at the wrong time. And maybe having the wrong relatives…she could kind of relate to the latter. _Stop thinking about Dad, Rem…_

Rations were passed out for the fellowship's meal, consisting of the last few pieces of fruit and some rough sandwiches made from cold meat and bread. She declined the meat as graciously as possible, trying to ignore the weird looks. Nice to know people thought she was weird in Middle Earth, too. She had rolled out her pallet afterwards, longing (and not for the first time) that she could take a long bath. She wasn't even picky about it by this point: she didn't care if it was ice cold and only knee deep…she just wanted to be clean again. Inspiration stuck her so fast that she sat up.

"Gimli…?" the Dwarf turned to her. He had been a somber presence amongst them, a despondent shadow of himself. Quite honestly she couldn't blame him. She was actually surprised he had only cried that once; personally, she would still be in hysterics. Rem supposed it testified of his endurance and spoke of a natural sobriety at taking life's punches as they came.

"Do you know…if there is a well or water source around here…?" He shrugged, regretfully.

" 'Fraid I don't know, lassie." She nodded, defeated.

"There is a broken well not far from here." She glanced up quickly, hopeful eyes alighting on Gandalf.

"Would it be all right…if I went there to clean up…?" the wizard was silent for a moment, chewing on his pipe as he appeared to mull it over.

"I suspect…that there would be no harm." His expression hardened, and for a horrifying second Rem was afraid that he was about to change his mind.

"But you will not go alone." That was no surprise. She nodded vigorously, nearly bouncing in her desire to comply. She didn't care by this point if the whole damn fellowship watched….Okay…maybe not. But she darn well didn't mind having more than one escort if that's what it took for her to get the closest thing to a bath.

Without a word, the Dwarf arose, apparently taking it upon himself to volunteer for the venture. She hastily tried to get up too, and nearly managed. But Legolas was there and gone: picking her up lightly and setting her on her feet before turning away again, returning to his vantage point on a nearby rock. Thoroughly disconcerted by his behavior, especially since her wounded pride contested that she was fully capable of getting up, she belted out a thank-you and scrambled after Gimli, pack in hand.

The well was actually only a few yards away. She and the rest of the fellowship (sans Gandalf) had initially missed its presence as it was masked by an outcropping of rocks further down the slight hillock from where they had set up camp. The well was indeed broken, in that the structure was crumbling in on itself. Rem guessed that, at one point or another, it had been a lovely piece of architecture carved from the live stone about them.

It was actually rather wide-rimmed, making her wonder if the 'well' was really only a moniker for the structure. It nearly seemed like a fountain to her, sans any real plumbing. Perhaps its initial description was used to verify the fact that it was indeed rooted to running water. Much of it was silently escaping along the jagged edges of its dilapidated walls and across the piles of rubble. All in all, it was about knee deep. No problem for her, though. It looked clean, fresh, and there were plenty of rocks to hide her from any prying eyes should anyone in the fellowship brave a look down towards them.

Putting her stuff down eagerly, she waited for Gimli to politely turn before she started to remove her clothes. Undressing in record time (given the complicated garments) she then began scrabbling with the ties of her corset. Loosening the ties as much as she was able, Rem removed the garment and nearly moaned in relief.

She never thought she'd miss her old bras so much. Corsets were so…tedious. Inwardly heaving yet another sigh, she removed the toiletries from her bag next before wading into the shallow water. It was chilly, but not all that uncomfortable since she wasn't making the mistake of jumping into it like she had once done in Rivendell. Boy, had that been a shocker. As she took her time scrubbing down, Gimli suddenly cleared his throat. She paused in her ministrations, well aware of what the Dwarf was about to say…and dreading it.

"…Did ye know…?" _Ah, right to the point, then._ She mused bitterly. God, how was she supposed to answer this? Pondering, she replied as best she could, resuming her bath as she did.

"I couldn't have done anything…" She swallowed, striving to remember the book appendices so she could help him understand.

"Balin, your cousin…he and the others came to Moria in the year 2989…right?" She watched his back carefully. Seeing him nod, she continued.

"He and the others perished in 2994…that was 25 years ago…" She felt her skin prickle, and it had nothing to do with the cold, running water. Guilt was welling up thickly inside of her. Despite her excuses, she wondered if Gandalf had been wrong: that she was really doing more harm than good by not warning her companions about…things.

"I—I'm really sorry, Gimli…I wish I…" She trailed off, wanting to sink down into the water and never come up again; even if her lungs were bursting. Her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"How many years are ye, missy?" Rem was taken aback by the question, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"twenty-two…" Where was he going with this? He nodded again, this time brusquely

"Then there was naught ye could do...even if ye had been here then." She smiled, albeit hesitantly.

"I kind of suck at fighting, anyway…And my dad didn't start reading them to me until I was nine." She halted, noticing her slip-up. Gimli apparently noticed it, too.

"Your father?"

"….Yes…" Even he was able to detect the underlying ice of her tone, indicating that she didn't want to be broached about the subject.

"Ye never speak of him, lassie." He grunted. _So much for subtle hints…_She was about to make a snarky reply so he would drop the subject when she realized something important. Something that wasn't altogether short of miraculous: he wasn't mad at her. He wasn't blaming her for what he had come across in here…Granted, what had occurred to his kin hadn't been her fault.

But still…Dwarves were no strangers to grudges (as were Elves, she mentally noted) and he didn't seem the least bit sore about the fact she hadn't told him of this horrific fate before they entered Moria. Taking that into consideration, she swallowed her better sense and set about repaying him the best way she knew how…by being honest.

"No…I don't like to think about him." Silence descended on the pair, during which Rem crouched down in the water and scrubbed at her hair. Lathering and rinsing it of its soaps. Gimli cleared his throat meaningfully, and Rem's eyes darted to his still-turned back. She took the hint and continued.

"He took off when I was still a kid…about fourteen." She elaborated awkwardly, prepping her razor to shave.

"I had gone to my cousins for a visit…it was summer, and I remember coming home…" _Gods…I remember it like it was yesterday…_The unpleasant memory, curled up like a sick cat, stretched out from the cramped corner of her mind.

The sweat had clung to the back of her neck in the late afternoon heat the day it happened. Idly, Rem had reflected gladly on the fact that she had her hair tied up in a pony tail. Her tank top clung to her, and she struggled up the scant three porch steps which had no real elevation but for the purpose of tripping someone who was careless. She juggled her things, scrabbling with the door handle until she managed to pry it open before waltzing inside.

"Mom! Dad, I'm h—" There was a dull thud, as Rem had tripped over some hefty boxes crowding the entryway.

"Jesus Christ!" She snapped, her feelings torn between anger and surprise. _Who the hell put these stupid boxes here?!_

"Rembrance Jane Eltrin!" She cringed at the thundering sound of her mother's voice. Her mom, Josephine, only used her full name when she was really upset with her.

Considering her coarse language, she hadn't been too surprised. She had just come back from visiting her cousin Jaime, who was a mechanic with a fairly dirty mouth. So no more cursing….in front of her parents, at least.

Her mom had then entered the hallway, sunlight slanting against her back in the wide hall from the windows of the kitchen. Rem couldn't see her facial expression, lost in a contrast of shadow due to the brilliant light bleeding from behind. She dropped one of her bags, shading her eyes against the light as she tried to scrutinize how ticked off her mom really was.

"Sorry, Mom….but…" She kicked idly at one of the boxes surrounding her, which had nearly made her do a face-plant on the linoleum.

"What's with all this stuff? Why's it here…? It nearly made me fall on my," She caught herself just in time, finishing lamely, "….butt." The evening light was beginning to set in, eating away at the yellow afternoon and fading to deep orange. It was then that she realized her mom's blue eyes looked sad….overly sharp somehow. Her stomach had dropped into her sneaker-ed feet. Had her mom been crying earlier? Fighting a swallow, she had then stared up at her. Her mom was one of the strongest people she knew…she could never recall seeing her cry. Over anything. Ever. Dad had often commented on this…especially since Rem had been such a cry-baby when she was really little.

"…Mom…?" Her voice cracked the slightest bit, splintering with her next question.

"Where's Dad…?" The quiet creak of the house sounded hollow to Rem's ears, and she had felt the world spiraling out from her as reality was torn asunder. She had been planning on breezing home as soon as Jaime's roommate dropped her off. Maybe wheedling a positive answer to whether or not she could get a navel piercing like Jaime…and….she could discuss going shopping the next day….with…with…

"Where's Dad?" Her voice had sounded stronger, though she couldn't have felt any further from the truth. She reigned it in, trying to concentrate enough in order to relay the edited details of this story to her companion, vigilantly standing guard.

"He'd….just left. As quickly as that. All of those boxes…were things my Mom was packing up for storage. We-she thought that, even though it had been a few months, he might come back….And she didn't have the heart to throw it all away….yet…" Rem rubbed in some lotion-type stuff viciously, wanting to drown her bitter memory with the feeling of the here and now by focusing on what it was she was doing. Good thing she was no longer handling the razor. Her hands were probably shaking.

Gimli had remained quiet throughout the narrative, for which she was grateful. She waited, allowing him some time to gather up his thoughts and ask anything…if he was indeed curious. She was half hoping he wouldn't though….after all, she really wasn't all that interes—

"Have ye heard from him since?"

Interesting. _Damn._ Hoping to close the matter, she made a negative sound, indicating that she had not. If she ever did, it would be too soon. _Liar!_ The thought made her flinch. Rem began dressing herself, wishing she had some way of washing her corset. Screw it. Shrugging the complicated garment off again, she dunked it a few times and began scrubbing it. Bracing the stiff material against a rock with one hand, she used her other one to rub soap into it. Hopefully, that would remove most of the sweat and dirt. If she were truly lucky, the damn thing would be dry by morning.

"…What was his name?" She stopped for a minute, as if considering whether or not she ought to reply. Nodding her head slightly, she carefully slipped on her useless dress sans undergarments and picked up her things. Wringing out the stiff corset before wadding it up inconspicuously, she crossed her arms and approached Gimli.

"Eorl," she offered quietly. "I think he changed it from 'Earl' or something…"

They trudged slowly back toward camp, Rem secretly grateful their conversation was over. Guilt still gnawed at her, despite the fact she hadn't been responsible for the fate of his kin. So all in all, supper was still settling within the confines of her stomach. Still, at least now she was thoroughly clean…for once. The luxury of bathing regularly—indoors and with warm temperatures, no less—was something she dearly missed.

Much of the fellowship had lain down to rest, save for Boromir, who was keeping watch. Aragorn, too, was keeping a vigil eye over their companions. Heading over to her sleeping pallet once again, Rem fidgeted with her bag one last time, stealing out her toothbrush of sorts for obvious reasons. Placing her corset carefully on top of the knapsack to avoid falling into the dirt, she set about taking care of her teeth before turning in for the night…if it was night. It still might only be afternoon.

She awoke several hours later to the sound of the group around her beginning to stir into wakefulness. While it was true Rem could be a morning person, that didn't necessarily mean she was a light sleeper. She had once slept through an earthquake. Waking up to the furniture shuffling noisily around her bedroom had nearly given her a heart attack-even if she had only been eleven. Lately, though, she hadn't had all that much trouble waking up at the slightest sound. She figured it had to do with the state of her nerves these days…the will for survival in a strange country seemed to be a great motivator. Knowing an orc could snuff you out at any given moment…Rem still had nightmares about that first encounter in the woods.

Hastily struggling out of her blankets, she grabbed her corset along with some other clothes and hastily ducked behind a large rock. Cursing to herself about the ill lighting, she struggled into the damp cloth. _Shit…it didn't really have any time to dry…_Heaving a sigh, she fumbled with the somewhat complicated laces. After about the length of ten minutes, she felt satisfied with her job. Rem bent over to retrieve her change of clothes when Merry made his rude appearance.

"Oi! Lady Rem, Gandalf says you ought….to….." The Hobbit trailed off, eyes popping wide as he caught a good look at her….all of her. Biting down a shriek, she gasped sharply and stumbled backwards. Pippin suddenly made an appearance.

"What are you two doin'—?" Doing a favorable impression of a cherry by this point, Rem reacted immediately and violently hurled her bag at the gob-smacked Hobbits. She tried to cover herself, so incredibly pissed off and embarrassed she couldn't formulate words. Dodging the bag, both Merry and Pippin seemed to regain their senses and scattered, leaving a very flustered Rem in their wake. She inhaled deeply, trying to rein in her emotions. Not the least of which was humiliation. Rem finished dressing as quickly as she could, rage boiling to the surface as she snatched up her abused bag and returned to where she'd slept. She violently began rolling up her pallet, avoiding the curious looks of her comrades as she did so with more force than was necessary.

"Are you all right, Miss Rem?..." Samwise asked nervously. It had not escaped his notice that his two friends were putting a fair distance between themselves and her, pointedly not meeting her gaze as their faces flushed rather scarlet.

"Just peachy keen," She grit out savagely, grabbing up her things. Feeling someone try to take her pack, she snatched it back aggressively. She met the eyes of Legolas, whose eyes were narrowed at her dangerously…much like the eyes of his kinsmen when she had spotted them in Rivendell for the first time. _Shit…here it comes._ She didn't have long to wait.

"I am only trying to help you." Feeling the fire beginning to leave her veins, she responded tartly.

"I'll be fine." There was a pause, and frustration was evident in Legolas' voice as he spoke once more. Movement in their camp had all but ceased as their heated debate began to escalate.

"Why do you insist on acting like a petulant child?" She felt her face flame at the accusation.

"I'm not a child!" she snapped. _Right, that sounded convincing._ She began again, fighting to regain her patience. It wasn't Legolas she was really mad at here, although she was damn near close because of his mounting attitude.

"Look…I appreciate the help…but I'll be fine."

"You're not fine!" He insisted. Her narrowed eyes nearly mirrored his own now, "And why would you think that?" She kicked out her right foot, flexing her ankle to show its full functionality. There was hardly any pain. More like a tightening akin to an itch compared to what it had been yesterday. He ignored the display, crossing his arms over his chest, nearly fuming.

"You were gasping behind that rock! Why else would you do so unless you were not fully recovered from your injury?!"

"I wasn't in pain!" _Damn his stupid Elf ears! _She gestured to the guilty Hobbits, blurting out as she did so, " they fucking freaked me out because they saw me naked!" Everyone seemed to halt what they were doing, and Rem became uncomfortably aware of the apparent scrutiny of the men around her. The Elf seemed dumbfounded…an impossible feat, had she really thought about it. Boromir turned to Frodo and the others, surprise evident in his tone. Or maybe that was amusement.

"You saw her…without clothes?" Immediately, Merry and Pippin—who had taken to standing behind their friends, vigorously shook their heads in denial.

"No, sir! She was wearin' garments!" Merry threw out.

"Aye! At least half o' what she's got on now!" Pippin added quickly, and evaded a cuff from Merry at the admission.

"It was an accident." Merry almost wailed, "Gandalf wanted me to fetch her because she was takin' so long and she was just standin' there, grasping her—"

"No one needs a recap, Meriadoc!" Rem nearly shouted, mortified beyond belief. _Oh God, just let me die. _She pushed her hand warily through her brown hair. There was another moment of silence, wherein Rem couldn't look anyone in the eye. Including her perpetrators. She really hoped they hadn't seen anything. Granted, her swimsuit back at home probably showed more…but that didn't ease her nerves in the slightest. Especially with the way they had reacted.

"Perhaps it would be best…If we move on." She would have given Aragorn a grateful look. That is, if she wasn't diligently studying that rock over there. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she was till blushing to the roots of her hair. Nope, not at all…

She shuffled off, wandering toward Gandalf, who had started to lead them on again.

"Ye'll be all right, Rem?" she glanced over at Samwise, and managed a wry smile as he matched her pace.

"Yeah…sure." The sooner they all forgot about this incident, the better. However, much to her chagrin, she overhead a muted conversation.

"…How much did you see…?" She glanced over at the wide-eyed Pippin, as he answered the suspicious Prince of Mirkwood. She couldn't be sure, but Boromir seemed like he was listening in as well.

"…Enough…" he practically squeaked. Then caught her eye, and fell silent before tripping to the back of their party to join Merry at a safe distance. Rem didn't blame him. If she got a moment alone with either of them any time soon, it would be all too tempting to break their little necks….or maybe just their smoking pipes. The latter would probably be more traumatic. She reflected on that, re-shouldering her pack and quiver…It sounded promising. Secretly plotting her revenge in an effort to ignore the pointed stares, she plodded onwards.

**A/N:…She's traveling with nine men….::blinks:: bound to happen sooner or later. At least she didn't scream and alert the orcs…**

KakashiFangirl43: Why thank you very much…^_^Glad I could make you laugh! ::hides in a hobbit hole:: You can keep the whip, though lol

chelsea chelsea jean jean: Thanks! That means a lot to me! I'm trying my best to make her realistic ^_^ And thanks for the props on the cast, too. I'm doing my best to show them as they really are. In as far as there being a mix-up when Legolas addresses Remas "Lady Eltrin," I was meaning for him to sound very formal, since it's her last name. But I could go back and re-edit it later… There is a twist coming up (the egg has been laid in this chapter! For a clearer hint, look up the name "Eorl" in relation to Rohan on wikkipedia) which will reveal itself by the time the gang arrive by Theoden's side. And I didn't find your review the least bit redundant: I'm more than happy to read every bit and clarify anything I might have missed.

estrela jem: Thank you very much! And will do!

DragonBonder08: Okay, for you ^_^ Thanks very much!

MauruiBuntaWorshipper: Really? ::wipes away a sweatdrop:: thank god lol I'm doing my best to steer clear of that. I'm glad you find the text humorous and that you like the story line. Thanks ^_^

lorienfalls: Thank you!

ShadowDmn: Lucky guess lol Thanks and please do ^_^

BellezzaIralese: Thanks!

bronsautracks: lol yup, can't make it easy for the elf boy, now can we? Glad you like, and thanks!


	7. Boromir's Affections

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the masterful Tolkien and his other affiliations…Except Rem.

A/N: Oops…didn't realize I had the 'anonymous reviews' disabled…::whacks herself upside the head:: But that has been remedied ^_^ Please review!!

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'Everything in this world

Exists to wear you down'

~Tite Kubo

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Dirt and stone crumbled from beneath her feet; bare earth roiling in a nauseating avalanche of brown and swimming shadows. Rem felt a scream choking its way past her throat, but was swallowed up by the thrashing kaleidoscope of sound and darkness erupting all around her. She was falling…falling…

She bolted upright, her skin bathed in a cold sweat as she gasped for breath. It took her a minute or two to get her bearings, and she realized where they were. They were camping out for the second time within the depths of Moria. It was starting to get to her. She rubbed her forehead anxiously, looking around tiredly at the majority of her sleeping companions.

They had come upon tools and corpses for the better part of their journey, apart from decaying weaponry and the brooding smell of the orcs. Before now, she had never before been so close to dead bodies…Though she was no stranger to hearing of tragedy and seeing depictions of ravaging wars or otherwise throughout the world, this was entirely alien to her. Violence was something on television newscasts or radio announcements…

She could actually smell the acrid stench of the bodies at certain intervals, depending on where they were: bodies that were once living, breathing beings…

She was never going to get used to that smell…These caverns were haunted by the very memory of those who had crafted and housed by them. It made her heart ache.

And then there were the twisting halls and caverns they had to pick their way across. At some point, she'd had much difficulty in traversing a steep incline of stairs. Among other things, dwarfs apparently didn't believe in hand-rails. Rem wasn't afraid of heights…but that didn't mean she wasn't scared shitless of losing her footing on a luckless hike up more rock. Which probably explained that dream she just had. Idly, she wondered if she really had the stomach for all of this…battles, after all, made better stories than they did as experiences…

Realizing the sentry on duty was Boromir, and that he was watching the area quite intently, she heaved herself up from her pallet. Rem needed some company to drown out the remembrance of her nightmare. She feared that if she dwelt on it too much, she really would fall when they had resumed their journey, either from lack of sleep or just plain nerves. Even his distraction could provide her the luxury of forgetting that unwanted concern.

Ignoring the nervous clench in her gut as he noticed her approach, she shuffled over to him, cocooning herself within the comfort of a blanket from her sleeping area.

"Hi." She murmured, not yet meeting his eyes.

"And good eve to you, milady." Made brave by his kind tone, she continued.

"…Mind if I sit with you?" he made room for her on the rock he was sitting, scooting aside. She sat next to him, snuggling more into her blanket. Much like she had at her desk all of those weeks ago…back home.

"You should take this time to rest, Lady Rem." There was slight disquiet in his voice.

She wrinkled her nose slightly at the 'lady' title.

"Couldn't sleep…And please, just call me 'Rem'." She caught a glance of him out of the corner of her eye. While his immediate focus was on the area around them, his brow was furrowed in consternation.

"Aragorn referred to you as this…" She nodded, looking toward where his head was inclined, as if trying to spot something interesting that had not yet come to his notice.

"If that is your preference then." Silence descended between them. And Rem had to pause to wonder at the awkwardness of it. It hadn't been nearly this uncomfortable between them before, even when he had taken a hand at training her in Rivendell.

Or rather, when he had made the effort to try. She was far from being adequate at handling that type of weaponry. _Even archery, for that matter…_she scowled inwardly. _I could still use a lot of practice._ Boromir's voice broke her away from the aimless trail of thoughts her mind had taken.

"Is it true you can see the future?" There was a tangible thought to the light in his eyes, although what it was exactly Rem was not able to say. She couldn't seem to place it…and it would probably remain undefined. But…she could tell it was sad, somehow. Dread, maybe? She was aware that Gondor was in turmoil…or rather, with the brewing danger in Middle Earth the greatest city of men was feeling ill at ease. No help in part to Denethor; Boromir's father.

"…I'm not really supposed to talk about it." She replied hesitantly, afraid that –asleep or not—Gandalf would be none too pleased with the direction this conversation was going.

"Did Gandalf the Gray convince you of this?" She cringed, wondering if maybe she ought to have lain awake in her bedding than converse with the warrior. Though she need not have worried, what with his next statement.

"Then…I suppose I trust it is for the best." She eyed him carefully, grateful for his admonition. "….Surely…he would have you speak of our task if it were doomed to failure." He lapsed into silence for a moment, then spoke again—ice and fire licking across Rem's chest in the painful clarity of realization at his words.

"I am glad of this…for there is much left to be done. With Sauron's demise, my father will have need of me." She couldn't help but notice his quick glance toward where Aragorn lay, and she swallowed. _God…if only I could tell him…_

Feeling a subject change would best suite her needs, before guilt got the better of her, she asked a question that had been stewing at the back of her mind for some time.

"Boromir….I was wondering…" She shifted, uncomfortable under his full attention.

"Back in Rivendell, when I mentioned I had a little experience in archery…" She stopped for a second, and he patiently awaited her to continue. "Why did you step forward to teach me swordplay? And why so brief? Did I really suck that badly?" She blurted out.

The smile playing about his lips, nor his sudden keen interest in their surroundings didn't go unnoticed by the flushing Rem. _Eh…maybe I should have phrased that better…_

"I had hoped that it went unnoticed." He admitted softly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes: she wasn't THAT selectively observant.

"It was because…I was intrigued." His soft eyes met her own, and Rem's grip on her blanket tightened.

"Care to elaborate?..." His smile became for prominent, and he looked away again, falling into an anecdote.

"You reminded me of her so much…The way you looked. And in the way you speak your mind; letting your temper carry you through to strength. How you don't shirk away from difficulty, no matter the task." Rem's eyes were large in the darkness, like a deer caught in headlights. While she was engaged by his growing anecdote, at the back of her mind there dwelt a blossoming worry that he was…about to spout feelings for her. _OhShitohshiohshit…_

"She had some skill with a blade and I …couldn't resist seeing whether or not you might reflect her in that regard as well…"She waited, with bated breath. He hesitated.

"It comes easier to some than most…Though you could be her younger sister." Rem nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the admission: the last thing she wanted was to be the mirrored image of some other woman. A woman who Boromir no doubt had placed on a pedestal and yearned to return to.

"So I did suck," she chuckled, but upon catching the look on his face, she swallowed it before commenting, "yeah, practice makes permanent…" she shrugged, "I've never handled that kind of weapon before. So I'm not too surprised." He accepted this answer, nodding as his smile was rekindled.

"So I noticed." Another silence descended, before Rem cut across it.

"So…what's her name?"

"Aldisra" Rem pondered this, her thoughts leaking through her mouth when he didn't offer to continue to carry their growing conversation.

"What does she look like?" Neither spoke, and as the minutes ticked by, Rem wondered whether he would bother to answer at all. But then he spoke, his voice heavy with some worn emotion.

"Warm brown eyes…and hair kissed by the sun." She nodded encouragingly, taking note that he obviously missed her.

"Are you…courting?" She nearly slipped and said 'dating'…he probably wouldn't have been able to fathom that expression. Plus she didn't really want to go into details. There was a good chance people were conservative in this world, even if Tolkien hadn't bothered to elaborate. A frown marred his expression, and he lowered his gaze to the rocky terrain below from where they sat.

"…In a way…As much as I was able…But I know not what has become of her…" she stared at him, sadly. So, he probably hadn't even been able to say goodbye when Denethor had entrusted him to go to Rivendell. _Poor guy…_ "Nor what else is becoming of this world." Again, he lapsed into silence; although, there was no strangeness to it this time. Merely a time of introspection for two people who had a lot to carry within the recesses of their minds.

"I would not usually trust to hope. Darkness grows in lengthening shadows from Mordor, and my people continue to sacrifice with sweat and bone. But for your presence…" Rem felt a pang of regret for the man seated next to her. She thought she might throw up…, "…there may yet be light in the world. So I trust that I shall see her again…before my time is done. And she may yet bear me a son…"

Compared to when the hobbits had seen her naked, nothing could top this horrible feeling. She felt like she was exposed on an entirely different level. These people…her companions, were starting to trust her. And there was nothing she had to offer to reconcile her absolute uselessness. She was a fraud, an accident…a mistake…and they would all hate her. She swallowed, remembering Gimli's confidence in her, and how he had easily stayed by her side of late. If not now, then they would later…just as soon as the fates aligned. _Fuck…_

Her stomach clenched, involuntarily. What she wouldn't give to wake up at home, back in her dorm. Even if it meant having an uncomfortable crick in her neck from sleeping funny, and receiving a failing grade on her anatomy quiz. It was nothing compared to the agony of having people counting on her only to know, deep down (and also through a wizard's warning), that she couldn't do anything worth while to truly make a difference.

Plus, it didn't help that the elf still regarded her with suspicion, even if he helped her at times out of obligation. She guessed it had more to do with his temperament than any actual desire on his part to assist her. More likely it was due to the good-natured bullying from the dwarf. Or he merely saw her as a woman in need of aid…which wasn't all that much better, in her opinion. She wasn't some damsel in distress…Just a girl—_woman!_—she corrected herself, that was far from home. And poised to be the scapegoat for her friends, when the fellowship crumbled apart.

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It wasn't long before everyone was roused by Gandalf to resume their journey. Desperately hoping her nightmare wouldn't come back to haunt her by coming true, Rem gamely clambered up the rocky path with a firm grip on the stone when the need called for it. While she was confident in the fact that she wasn't afraid of death itself…that didn't mean she wasn't afraid of the possible pain that accompanied the process of it. She would much rather go in her sleep, if she had it her way. So she took her time and traveled slowly, not wishing to meet an early demise. Or worse, another stupid injury caused by her own maneuverings. Before arriving in Middle Earth, she had never even visited an emergency room. To date, she had injured her knee, bruised her pride (more than on one occasion), and twisted her ankle. So it was no wonder she was being extra cautious.

Rem was also careful to let the hobbits climb ahead of her. After their accidental escapade, it hadn't escaped her notice that both Merry and Pippin had become more quiet while in her presence. Not a good sign. Considering how talkative they used to be. Besides, she could have sworn she'd caught Pippin checking out her breasts shortly after the…incident…, so there was no way in hell she'd make the mistake of allowing him to look up her skirts.

And that was another thing. Climbing in a dress was a bitch. She'd scaled her fair share of trees when she was a kid, but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention slightly undignified. She tripped once again, scrabbling with the rock in anxious panic. _Okay, really undignified._ She was interrupted from her internal griping at the sound of Gandalf's voice. It cut through the long shadows cast by the glow of his staff, lingering in the musty air.

"The wealth of Moria was not in wealth…or jewels…" She puffed her brown hair out of her eyes, glancing at small, silver veins in the rock with renewed interest, "…but Mithril…" It was then the wizard took the opportunity to shine his staff all the brighter, focusing its glare into the vast abyss to their right. In spite of the fact she had imagined the sheer size of it as a child, as her father's rambling voice droned about her like a bee over a blossom, nothing could have prepared her for what it was she saw.

Standing there, looking over the gigantic mine as it stretched further into the darkness, she felt like a grain of salt in the vast ocean. Miles of chain and tools floundered motionless in the air, stretched above them and dangling in lifeless array. She could hardly believe thousands of dwarves had once worked here: carving into the face of the cliff and down below…like ants in a sort of nest, or hornets in a hive. Rem felt her mouth go dry, scooting further from the edge just to be safe. It didn't escape her notice that some of the others did the same.

The soft crunch of gravel and rock reminded Rem to keep walking, and her companions continued their journey. Gandalf resumed his narrative.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Rem had to stifle the chuckle she had almost uttered at the sound of Gimli's sharp intake of breath and following utterance.

"Aww! That was a kingly gift!" She allowed herself to smile, reminiscing to herself. _Well, he did save their asses more than once…_

"Yes…" Gandalf nearly chortled, but seriousness was still lacing his tone, "I never told him_, _but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire." Rem had to fight the urge to peek over at Frodo, knowing he would have a priceless expression of astonishment on his face. Still, she couldn't completely keep herself from looking amused. Boromir shot her a confused expression, to which she reacted by shrugging. This exchange did not escape many others notice, not the least of which was Aragorn. Surprisingly, Legolas would not look her direction at all. Not that she was complaining.

Since the misadventure of her getting dressed, he'd taken to ignoring her completely. Which, for the time being, she was perfectly okay with. With his being backward in coming forward around her all the time (offering assistance while scrutinizing her every move) she found his paranoia and misplaced gentlemanly behavior very disconcerting. She would rather file his inconsistent behavior at the back of her mind until further notice.

For now, Rem was content for being a mere shadow in his presence. Prince or not, he could be a real jerk. She regretted having ever allowed herself to cry in his arms at the archery range back in Rivendell. While she was no psychic, she had an inkling that part of the reason he was delicate with her at one moment and verbally forceful the next was because he thought her own behavior erratic. _The bastard…_

They began meandering toward a steep set of worn steps carved into the living rock itself. Once again, Rem couldn't believe dwarfes didn't seem to have much thought for self-preservation. _What I wouldn't give for fucking hand-rails!_ After what seemed like ages as they finished scaling the sheer face of the stairway, they came to a sizable portion at the face of three stone archways. Doors to beyond where they now stood. Though she expected it, she still felt her own mood plummet as Gandalf uttered those seven, awful words.

"I have no memory of this place."

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"Are we lost?" Pippin's whispered voice sounded hushed even in the darkness. Rem sat with her back against some of the stone, laid out warily like a rag doll. She wasn't exactly the athletic type. Yet she flattered herself into thinking that as time went by, she found that it wasn't altogether as hard as it was when they first started. It kept her morale up, even if it might be just a big fat lie.

"No." Merry murmured back.

She wasn't fat, anyway….She was thin enough to count herself as being in shape...though she didn't have any real muscle tone yet to speak of. Because of this, she just preferred to think of herself as 'potentially muscular'. _Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that. _

"I think we are," Pippin shot back.

"Shh!" Samwise hushed fiercely, "Gandalf's thinking!" There was a brief respite, before Pippin spoke once more.

"Merry…"

"What?!" He asked waspishly, obviously annoyed with his cousin.

"I'm hungry!" Rem stopped rambling within the recesses of her own mind in order to turn her attention to the hobbits.

"You're always hungry, Pip." Rem mused aloud. Frodo suddenly got up, and scrambled over to Gandalf. The two began speaking in hushed tones. She ignored them, well aware of the subject of their discussion. She kept her gaze on her hobbit companions, having no desire to espy Gollum below. Otherwise it promised for an entourage of further nightmares that might involve falling and slippery creatures that evolved from the dark. Forcing herself not to shiver, she went about pretending he didn't exist, focusing on the apprehensive hobbits.

"I don't really blame you though…" she admitted, noting how Merry and Pippin seemed to relax as she attempted civil conversation. She would retaliate later; however childish it might seem, the designs she was setting aside for later were helping to retain her sanity for the time being. "…I wouldn't mind eating a whole plate full of calamari." She sighed dreamily; seafood was something she was rather fond of.

"What's that?" Samwise asked quietly, perplexed.

"Fried and breaded squid…kind of like our 'friend' from the black lake out there," she waved her hand airily in the direction she imagined the Watcher and the one-time hidden entrance to Moria lay. Merry wrinkled his nose, and Pippin seemed a little disgusted as well at the prospect.

"You'd eat that stuff?" She grinned at him.

"Coming from you, that's quite the statement."

"What's it taste like?" Samwise cut in, having the decency to mimic curiosity for politeness' sake.

"Mmm, kind of meaty and spicy, if it's prepared right…" She drifted off, wishing she could make fried calamari out of the giant beast that had attacked them. _Ah…kharmic revenge…_The hobbits seemed to ponder this, and Samwise shook his head.

"Whatever makes you happy, I guess…" Pippin muttered, scratching his head. The others nodded in agreement. An encouraging sound interrupted their thoughts.

"Oh!...It's that way." Merry stashed away his pipe, smiling broadly toward Gandalf.

"He's remembered!" Rem dragged herself up as well, and the others followed suite.

"No," admitted Gandalf, the crusty compilation of ease evident in his voice, "but the air doesn't smell so foul down here…" He smiled, "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

"Especially if it leads you to Fruit Loops," Rem couldn't resist mumbling. Legolas gave her an odd look, apparently the only one that overhead her private rumination. Pointedly keeping a straight face, she followed after their friends, secretly wishing she really did have a bowl of that cereal…Or even Fruity Cheerios, for that matter…She almost tripped again, bringing nearly all of her thought processes to a halt.

_Fuck that…I'd sooner exchange this stupid dress for a t-shirt and jeans!_ Reining in her pride, she kept walking and pretended she hadn't lost her footing for the umpteenth time.

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A/N: Aldis is an Old English name which means 'battle-seasoned'…I added the 'ra' part for some flair…I think Boromir could fall for a girl with a strong will and fighting spirit.

HUGS TO ALL WHO'VE REVIEWED!!!!!

ShadowDmn: lol he's not that perverted (well, he is male, then again…) he's more concerned about her 'honor' in the matter…but I suppose you could read into it either way ^_^ Thanks for reading!!

DragonBonder08: Any time!! Please keep reading!

Xaia Silversheen: Lol okay, just for you ^_^ Glad you like!

bronsautracks: Lol yeah, well patience is a virtue…she's choosing to bide her time. She'll retaliate when the time is right (although throwing Pippin in the well does sound tempting…) Thanks for reading ^_^

Prisoner To The Darkness: Thanks very much!! Glad this is entertaining, and hope that you continue to stay hooked!! Please keep reading!!!

Ariadne Evans: Amen, sister…Clothes shopping can be a royal pain the ass…But I guess that just makes a good find even sweeter (or so we tell ourselves, lol And yes, Kohl's does help) I'm glad you think Rem seems real and that you like my little story—I'm doing my best!! Thanks for reviewing, and please keep reading ^_^

estrela jem: You are very welcome!! I hope it continues to please you, and I promise to update as frequently as possible (hopefully I'll have it tied off by April…I hate it when authors write themselves into a corner and never finish their tales…so I solemnly swear never to do that myself). Hope you do well on your midterms!! I'll have another chapter out before Valentine's ^_^ Thanks for continuing to read and review!!

Wolfy Pup: Glad you think so!! Thanks, and please continue to enjoy ^_^

gppr: Thank you very much; I'm striving to keep her out of the 'Mary-Sue' category as much as possible, and you're helping me feel that I'm accomplishing just that ^_^ Please continue to read and review!! Your input helps ^_^

TheFightingTemerariePrettyness: lol Thanks. I hope you continue to do so.

Marigold3969: Aww….you're making me blush =^_^= I'm extremely flattered that you went through the trouble just to read—and review— this!! Thank you very much!! Ahem, in as far as when the rating kicks in (aside from the obvious language) it'll be very soon. I'm trying to keep up a level of animosity between them (people—elves included—fear what they don't understand…and Rem just showed up out of nowhere) for the time being. But there will be a change in the relationship starting with Lothlorien. The actual Lemon in question will occur in the lovely cavern lake at Helm's Deep (the introduction in the first chapter is a snippet of the situation). I have a general outline in mind for major events, but I don't want them to fall head-over-heels too quickly. I don't want to rush things and spoil the build-up ^_^ Anyway, don't give up hope!! There will be limes before that, so please be patient and continue to read!!! ^_~

Black-sun-567: Lol Wow, thank you very much!! I'm very humbled by your praise!! I hope you continue to enjoy this fiction ^_^ Oh, and is this update soon enough for you? Lol I was just about to upload when I spotted your review ^_^ Thanks again!!


	8. The Inferno

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, and if it ever did you can bet I'd make it more graphic….::coughs:: respectively belongs to Tolkien and company. I make no profit from this…but please enjoy!!

A/N: I was going to wait to post this until I had more of the next chapter under way...but...I didn't want to wait that long lol.

:: falls out of her chair:: I can't believe how many reviews I've received for this story!!! Thank you all so much!!! (but please don't hesitate to send more ^_~)

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'Break down,

Every single one of you'

~Tite Kubo

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It wasn't that she had been ignorant of the cold licking at her skin since before wandering down the dark alcove of stairs. It had merely been so consistent she had stopped really noticing; more like a numb, continual awareness at the back of her mind. Yet the sudden increase in temperature…no, the mere hint of softer, balmy layers emerging from their surroundings jolted her into a state outside of her prior obliviousness.

Despite the pleasure of the subtle change, she couldn't stop the feeling of her flesh crawling at the knowledge it was most likely due to the balrog that stalked these lower halls at the heart of the mountain. It occurred to her, as she mulled over this in her head, that it remained a possibility that she would die here. There was no written mention of her in this story—she was an obscure mistake, after all. So there was no promise, like there seemed to be for the rest of the fellowship. That is, if her very presence didn't screw that up. Then again, things were falling into order….in spite of her minor interference…sort of.

"Let me risk a little more light…" Gandalf's deep voice was like tea; a balm to her soul in the distraction it provided for the time being. As though coaxing a white flame, light grew from the bauble atop his ancient staff, and the shadows melted to the point of stretching further away. The sharpened silhouettes made visible by the bright contrast showed an awe-inspiring sight.

"…Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." They drank it all in, humbled by their surroundings.

"There's an eye-opener and no mistake," Samwise breathed.

"No shit…" Rem whispered softly. She received a small entourage of odd looks, laced with various hues of disbelief. That, or they were just disgusted by the swearing. She had the decency to blush. _Crap…I didn't mean to say that so loud…_But she couldn't really help her reaction. As familiar as she was with the tired description of their surroundings, the full-blooded experience of it was really rather overwhelming.

Apparently, that minor detail hadn't occurred to her companions. If she were to hypothesize, they probably thought she had read of this—not in a book—but through some means of scrying. She almost snorted at the prospect. She was as psychic as a ham sandwich. Or so she assumed, at any rate. Twenty was an odd time for latent clairvoyance to pop in, at any rate. So she highly doubted they would be making an appearance any time soon, if ever.

They trudged onward, their footsteps treading softly along the stone halls. Rem allowed her eyes to swim about the scenery as they walked, drinking it all in. When her eyes fell upon the shadowed countenance of a certain dwarf, she realized he had paused and was staring minutely off to the side. There was a sharp heave of breath, and he sprinted toward a ramshackle room with broken doors. With her heart giving a deep lurch in realization, she ran after him.

"Gimli!" Gandalf's stern voice lashed out after them; he was none too pleased about their detour. But she couldn't help it…neither of them could. The gentle rattling of Samwise's cherished cookery and weaponry, coupled with the sound of straying cloth, let her know the rest of the fellowship had followed after them into the immense room. A beacon of light fell in soft repentance from a single, small window.

"No…" Gimli gasped, his heart obviously aching as he knelt before a single tomb amidst decaying rubble. "No…no…!" Great, heaving sobs echoed about the chamber, and Rem awkwardly shuffled next to him. Giving him a slight sphere of personal space, she laid her hands comfortingly upon his shoulders. He grabbed one of her hands roughly, holding it tightly. She squeezed his hand back, tears staining her own brown eyes, threatening to fall.

Her vision was blurring. God, she felt awful. Like this really had been her fault….Guilt was dredged up once more, and not for the first time, she wished she could have…_What? Wish you could have done what? What could you have possibly done, you moron?!_ By her will or not, her tears were now indeed falling. _No…there's nothing you can do…you're useless…_She swallowed bitterly, biting her lip as she strove to hold back the rest of her tears. _It would be better if you were home…better to wish for that…_

She closed her eyes, trying to collect her composure. She released a shuddering breath, hardly audible from her lips. Unmeaning to, she locked eyes with the elf. He had heard her nonetheless. Yet his eyes strayed away, falling to his surroundings instead—a tense emotion lingering upon his beautiful features.

It was then Rem became aware of what the others were doing around her, and she hastily turned her attention to Gandalf as he spoke.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." Gimli let out another hiccough, and Rem patted his shoulder through her distraction. "…He is dead then." Empathy touched his voice, "It is as I feared." Giving Gimli a final pat, she turned to Gandalf, knowing what the wizard's next move would be.

She couldn't stand this anymore. She knew she wasn't supposed to interfere: Elrond and the wizard had warned her against this. But she was done with it. She wasn't at home, lying tucked in her bed as her father read aloud from these accursed books. This was different. This time around, there was actually something she could do. And something must be done. Gimli's dying sobs lingered within her ears, strengthening her resolve.

_No…this isn't fiction any more._ She mused sourly, determination sweeping through her as she stepped closer to the Gray Wizard, praying he would hand his possessions to her as he spotted the rune-encrypted book in the hands of what used to be a dwarf. _These are people's lives._ She glanced at Boromir, but his focus thankfully remained elsewhere.

_Maybe…maybe it's possible to change fate…It can all make sense._ She felt her heart sink in her chest as she noted the wizard hardly glanced in her direction, instead handing his things over to the clumsiest of hobbits. . _After all…_ _the ultimate difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense._

"We must move on, we can not linger." Legolas' voice cut through her thoughts momentarily, and Gandalf then began reading from the thick volume ensconced with dust. Tucking aside her crestfallen feelings, desperation aiding her movements, she surreptitiously tracked Pippin's wandering form; she had to act fast.

"…A shadow moves in the dark…" _Stop him! _Pippin reached out a curious hand to stroke the shaft of an aged arrow, embedded within the skeleton surmounted atop the well. Panicked, she batted his hand away.

"Don't touch anything!" She murmured, more sharply than intended. He nodded, unmoving in his stance, shame brushing at the corners of his features in being caught.

"…We cannot get out. They are coming." The dull quiet after Gandalf's narrative inhaled the sound of all, and Rem wanted to breathe out a sigh of relief at the stark absence of any sound. But that was when it happened.

As Pippin shifted his weight and turned back around to face everyone, his clothing brushed alongside the well. As he moved away, contact was made with the frail corpse at the brash movement, and with nauseating clarity, she realized what was to happen next. Clattering pandemonium erupted as the skull thundered down the well.

Rem stumbled back, just as Gandalf turned. The glare leering out from beneath his dismayed surprise found her first, and then turned to Pippin. Everyone winced, almost as though in physical pain. It was then the tangled remnants of both bones and chains, complete with the bucket, followed after the cacophony of noise in rattling beats of thuds. As soon as their echo waned, Gandalf snapped shut the massive book. He snatched his belongings from the startled hobbit's arms, anger and frustration warring across his aged visage.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!" His venomous gaze then landed on Rem, for a split second making her wish she could jump into the well, too.

"Rem!..." She felt the blood drain from her face, and white-hot embarrassment lanced through her limbs in drafts of hot and cold. She felt the group's scrutiny, knowing she had everyone's full attention for all the wrong reasons. Boromir and Aragorn seemed to be sagging slightly, probably in reprieve from no apparent consequences of the loud ruckus. But it was to be short-lived.

"….." Gandalf paused, recollecting himself. He strode toward her, sidling up to her as his impenetrable gaze narrowed and looked down at her. "Rem…You know better." The words had been lowered a few octaves, meant for her ears alone. She felt as though she had received a punch in the stomach. _Oh, God…he knows…he knew I was trying to interfere…_ The wizard pivoted and made to stride away, and that was when the first drum beats sounded.

They pulsed in the darkness, rumbling like a heartbeat. It was as though some monster were awakening from a deep, enchanted sleep; it sent goose-bumps skating across her skin, despite the warm temperature about them. But her mind was still in turmoil. _It…it still happened! Does that mean anything I do…no matter what…won't make a difference…?_ A lump rose in her throat at the thought, even as Frodo unsheathed Sting to confirm the presence of…

"Orcs!" Legolas ground out, needlessly. It pushed everyone into immediate action. Everyone except Rem.

"Get back," Aragorn shouted, "Stay close to Gandalf!" She felt like she might actually be feeling the beginning of a migraine. _I can't prevent anything from happening…? Nothing?!_

"They have a cave troll…" Boromir's voice reverberated in her mind, its wry intensity helping her regain her bearings. Now wasn't a good time to focus on regret…she had to act. She could figure this all out later…much later. Right now she needed to survive. Just because everyone else would come out of this nearly unscathed, didn't mean she would be so lucky. She notched her arrow to her bow, trying to forget how much her hands were really shaking. Aragorn and Boromir swiftly caught the weaponry and broken masonry Legolas tossed to them, using it to shore the weakened doors.

She felt someone tugging on her skirts, and she allowed whoever it was to thrust her toward the hobbits and Gandalf. It turned out to be none other than Samwise, who now stood at Frodo's side with an unsheathed pan. His sword was held awkwardly in the other. Sting continued glowing an acidic blue, eerie in its forbearance of action for orc blood. The hobbits all looked as gob-smacked as she felt; she tightened her bow string. She was in no way prepared for this!

"Agh, let them come!" Gimli's rasping voice, still a bit thick from mourning, rang out starkly. "There's one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" She wished she was as brave as he obviously felt.

As the door began to splinter, Legolas let an arrow fly, and then another in fast succession. They landed true into the flesh of the enemy; Aragorn then fired his own weaponry, striking another. Rem's nerveless fingers let go of her own shaft, and felt her blood run cold at returning scream. She hardly had it reloaded when the rotting wood gave away completely. Orcs streamed through, breaking over them like putrid water with their numbers.

Rem fought off the bile rising in her throat, striving to steel her nerves in the midst of screams and battle cries. Hardly taking aim, she fired off her second arrow, narrowly missing on particularly disgusting orc but finding another. Thinking quickly, she grasped her bow with both hands, deciding to use it as a thin and whippy staff. She cursed her stupid back-back and quiver, knowing they would probably throw her off balance…much like poor Samwise. Gandalf shielded her as much as possible from the action, but it wasn't long before there was a break in his defense.

There was a yell from Samwise as the aforementioned cave troll blundered in, and Rem's distraction nearly cost her an arm. An orc lashed out at her, and without thinking, she whapped him in the face with her narrow bow. It squealed like a stuck pig, and she hurtled away from it before it recouped enough to attack her once more.

"Pull!" Aragorn shouted. Dodging as many orcs as she could, hitting any that approached her, Rem hysterically ran toward the hobbits. A singular mantra repeating itself within her mind: _Ohshitohshitohshit…oh…_Her eyes locked on a vicious, snaggle-toothed orc, armed to the teeth. _Oh…Shit!_ Before she could recoil and lash out at it, an arrow found its way in his throat, courtesy of Legolas.

Before she could muster up the strength to run once again, she heard her own breath nearly erupt into a shriek as the troll's chain ripped through the air. Luckily, fear had graced her with enough adrenaline to keep her reflexes in fine working order. Suddenly, she found someone grabbing her shoulder.

She screamed, whirling around with her bow at the ready, only to realize it was Gandalf. His grip tightened as he pulled her behind him—nearly backed into a corner— once again. She almost lost her footing in surprise; why the hell was he protecting her?! She didn't have the luxury to dwell on it; another slippery orc crashed past Gandalf and tried to skewer her. She hit it as hard as she could across the face, screaming at it as she did.

She could hardly see the rest of the battle; chaos reigned and the wizard seemed hell bent on defending the young woman who couldn't do as much herself. Vaguely, she could hear Frodo and Aragorn shouting for one another, but she couldn't see what was going on. But all at once, there was nearly a pause in Gandalf's vigorous fighting stance, and he stilled. Rem barely got a good look, but it was enough to make her stomach twist. Samwise's aghast howls featuring Frodo's name seared her to the core.

_He's fine…he's gong to be fine!_ She berated herself, looking across the room into Frodo's horrified eyes. The troll was trying to gut him with its shaft of wood, making him look like an uncomfortable mass on some demonic kebob.

_He's wearing Bilbo's shirt…he'll just be a little bruised._ Without meaning to, she grabbed Gandalf's elbow. He turned minutely, catching her expression. His appalled facial features smoothed out, apparently getting the message. _He's gong to be fine!_ She thought desperately. However, their small, forbidden exchange ended abruptly when the wizard shook off her hand, running toward the last remnant of the attack as it turned from Frodo.

The troll in question then collapsed, two arrows lodged through its open mouth and into its thick skull. Shouting in surprise, Merry and Pippin were thrown from its back in its landing.

"Oh no…" Aragorn's broken whisper was painful to hear. Rem wiped the sweat bathing her forehead, breathing hard as she joined them. No one was really aware of her presence.

"He's fine." She quipped, getting a few disbelieving looks for her trouble. But then Frodo gasped, reacting to Aragorn's movement of turning him over. Samwise looked near tears.

"He's alive!" Gandalf nodded brusquely, unsurprised.

"..I'm alright…I'm not hurt…" he wheezed.

"Just really fucking bruised." Rem muttered sympathetically. Impaled or not, that troll had been strength incarnate. Frodo's poor stomach had to be purple or blue at the very least.

"You should be dead!" Aragorn's shock was beyond evident, "that spear would have skewered a wild boar.

"Take off your shirt." Rem ordered gently.

"…More CPR stuff…?" Merry whispered, confused. This time it was Pippin who served out a reprimand in the shoulder with a fist. She bristled, ignoring them both. They were still on her list. _When all this is over…_

Gandalf gave her a meaningful look, which she ignored. She was in the gray of his regulation: she was merely helping things along quicker than they might have otherwise. No harm, no foul...in her book, at least. If he really wanted her to keep her mouth shut, then he would have to illustrate down to the letter of what she could and could not do. The wizard returned his attention to Frodo with a tiny smile that he had not graced her.

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Hesitantly, dazed fingers nimbly undid the first few of his shirt buttons.

"Mithril!" Gimli's swift exhale of breath came with a smile of his own. " You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!" Their small respite came to a halt as shadows stretched along the walls. The arrival of another volley of orcish shrieks announced that they were no longer safe where they were. Gandalf was the first to react.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm" he rushed hurriedly. Quickly, everyone gathered themselves from where they were and rushed from the haunted tomb; Balin's final resting place.

Wind, undeniably warm, rushed past Rem as she ran with the rest of her companions. She held her bow tightly to her chest, squeezing the wood harshly against herself uncomfortably in an effort to stay armed, as well as keep everything…in place. A sports bra, the corset most certainly wasn't. Her brown hair whipped into her face, and for once she regretted not hacking it short like most other young women her age.

The harsh ringing of metal and bloodcurdling shrieks hammered in Rem's ears. Hiking up her useless skirts, she continued fast as she was able. Orcs were streaming after them, some even from gaping holes in the ceiling like a festering colony of ants. It felt like no more than a few seconds before they were completely surrounded. An embankment surrounded by a putrid, lethal ocean.

She wielded her bow menacingly, again reliant on its use as a club rather than its actual purpose. She didn't think her nerves would let her draw a bead on the enemy properly. Rem felt like her stomach had dropped into her feet, and was certain her very flesh was crawling at the sight of them all before her. The battered and scarred faces as they hissed and screeched would surely haunt her nightmares for many years to come. A guttural, deep-throated groan then raked through the air.

Panic began to amass in the disheveled army, and as another rolled out, wicked looking swords and knives were stowed away as they attempted to scatter from the danger all at once. Unsure what exactly was happening, Gimli nonetheless bellowed out in glee as they fled. Rem would have smiled had she not known what it was that was making that noise_. It kind of sounds like a toilet with rusty pipes backing up…_She still couldn't even muster up a grin_. _Her heart was thudding away inside her. They were completely isolated and among themselves. No orc lingered.

"What is this new devilment…?" Boromir's face was strained.

"A balrog…" Gandalf seemed to be in deep meditation, summoning up the rest of his will in order to speak. His eyes then snapped open as he continued, "…a demon of the ancient world…" Rem noticed Legolas' dark blue eyes were wide in alarm. It seemed only he and Gandalf, aside from herself, had any real idea as to what this thing was. "…its foe is beyond any of you. RUN!"

Once again, they were flying across the stone. Rem hiked up her skirts in one hand, grasping her bow in the other. Her bag squirmed against her back, making it seem alive. Boromir was charging ahead first, but nearly fell as he teetered at the edge of the cliff and stairs. Legolas nabbed him just in time, dragging him away from death…which was so eager to lay claim to him. The balrog's deep groans and growls were erupting closer to them, and more frequently…they were a pulsing, vile thing. Gandalf had barely reached them as a particularly nasty one rang out.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn's shout caught the wizard's attention, and though heavily breathing, he managed a reply.

"Lead them on Aragorn. The bridge is near!" The uncrowned king of Gondor regarded him speechlessly, uncertain. Without warning, the wizard shoved the younger man, intent on breaking him out of his trance.

"Do as I say!" he yelled callously, reading Aragorn's continual hesitation. "Swords are no more use here!" Rem scrambled after the hobbits as they all followed after the ranger down the stairs, wishing she had missed that exchange. They would be the last words Gandalf the Gray ever spoke to Aragorn.

"Why the hell don't your people believe in handrails?!" Rem hollered after Gimli, stress making her lose her temper. She wiped at her forehead with her sleeve; it was growing unbearably hot. The air was thickening, heat staining the otherwise cool and immense cavern at the demon's approach.

"Not afraid o' heights, missy!" He shot back at her. _Yeah, but I sure as shit am!_ It was then that a large piece of masonry slammed into their path. The enormous chunk took out a great number of stairs, halting them in their tracks.

"Oh, fuck!" Rem hissed through her teeth. Really, she should have anticipated this. But at the moment, adrenaline was gushing through her blood, pushing her mind to a standstill in the blind drive to survive. It was like reciting lines in front of a vast audience…her mind was drawing a blank.

Without warning, someone swept her up in his arms. Letting out an inelegant squawk, Rem held on for dear life as he leapt across the chasm. Much to her surprise, it turned out to be the elf. Yet as soon as they landed, he slipped from her entangling hold and turned toward their companions.

"Gandalf…" he beckoned eagerly. In spite of her dazed state, Rem took that as her cue and scuttled down several steps to make room for everyone else. The wizard took an agile jump, landing safely alongside Legolas. Another bone-jarring growl shook the very walls. The chasm widened, rock falling away as though it were merely shale. With a sickening swish, arrows narrowly missed both Rem and Gandalf. She would have shrieked had she been able to find her voice.

Legolas reacted instantly, fixing her with a firm look to indicate she ought to follow his example. As fast as she was able, Rem notched an arrow to her beaten bow, carefully taking aim. She exhaled as she shot, releasing it. _Please hit!_ It narrowly missed her intended target. However, it succeeded in making the orc in question fumble with his own bow and arrow, and they fell into the depths of the abyss. She notched another arrow, grimly. _Not good enough…Come on, Rem!_

Giving herself a hard mental slap, she took aim again. This next time, her shot found its mark. But it wasn't enough to kill the horrid creature, but it was enough to stun him. He fell back, tumbling to its eventual demise below. _H-holy shit…I'm doing it…I'm actually…_ Another wretched howl interrupted her, shaking the very ground, almost causing her to lose her balance.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" Rem looked up just in time to see Gimli hurtle toward their other companions. However, he landed just short of even ground, and began to topple backward over the edge. Reacting quickly, Legolas grabbed the rust-colored hair braided at his front. "Mind the beard!" He hollered in a strangled tone. The gap between the existing stairs was considerably wide, and all but Rem looked worried. She concentrated on notching another arrow, just in case the orcs felt brave enough to fire off another round. It was the least she could do…_You need to focus…_She thought frantically.

"Hold on, Frodo!"

Another earth shattering roar split the humid air, causing more of the ceiling to splinter through the stairway. Its jarring impact crashed behind them, crumbling any stability they might have had while at the same time blocking their escape. They quaked sideways, and it seemed like the end for the ranger and hobbit.

"Lean forward!" Aragorn shouted. Calculatingly, they put their weight in that direction, making gravity work for them. Slamming into their own structure of stairs with their little island, Aragorn and Frodo snatched the opportunity to join their friends. Relief was palpable, and Rem felt some of her nerves dwindle at the sight of it. Once again, they were flying down the stone steps, hurrying toward the narrow stone that could be referred to as a bridge.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf need not have wasted his breath.

Had she not been running for her life, Rem probably would have refused to go near the slim pass. But at the moment, she was booking ass to get across. She hardly noticed that the entire room that stretched before them and the bridge of Khazad-dûm was nearly engulfed by flame. Yet the enraged sound of the balrog gained her attention, rocking her to the core.

Upon reaching the other side, she tripped over her stupid skirts, slamming painfully into the wall. Ignoring the rough stone, pretending it hadn't hurt, she turned around quickly. Gandalf was astride the bridge, facing their enemy.

"You cannot pass!" The very atmosphere crackled with the sound of rage, and fire swirled close, rolling off the horned demon in waves.

Rem felt her throat constrict. _To hell with this!_ Without even really thinking, she charged back to them. Or at least, she would have. Strong arms enfolded her once more, only this time, they belonged to the ranger.

"No!" His voice fought over the rising, chaotic din. Rem continued to struggle, faking that she hadn't really heard. There wasn't much she could do. She knew that…but she…_I have to try!_ Deep down, Rem knew it was all in vain…that Gandalf was meant to fall, and be borne again into the world as a wizard clothed in white. But…did it have to be this way…? Did everyone really have to endure such pain…? And what about her…? Treacherous though they might be, she couldn't help but briefly let her thoughts focus on how afraid for herself she was as well. Would the fellowship disown her? The wizard had really been the only one that was adamant in her staying with them…Where was she do go…what was she to do? What then? Tears burned at her brown eyes. _I have to do something!_

"Gandalf!" Frodo's heart-wrenching shriek made her double her efforts. But Aragorn would not relent; his grip tightened like iron bands.

"I am the Servant of the Secret Fire." The wizard gasped, Glamdring's hilt firmly in his hand. "Wielder of the Flame of Anor." The balrog reached to draw its own sword, menacingly holding it aloft.

"The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!" the demon seemed even more incensed, fire flashing out of his flesh in frightening anger. It brought its sword down upon the wizard, but there was a flash of light and a crash to indicate Gandalf's staff had saved his skin.

"Go back to the shadow!" Rem stopped struggling, almost sobbing in her hysteria. She sagged slightly against Aragorn's frame in defeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering at what she knew would come next.

" You shall not pass!" Time stood still, as though the world were holding its breath. But as the balrog vanished below, its whip returned to wrap about the wizard's ankle. Frodo screamed, struggling against Boromir much like Rem had against the ranger only moments before. Now the tears were silently running down her dirty face.

"No!" She opened her eyes, and instantly regretted it. It was like seeing a mangled train wreck, or a piece of road kill. She couldn't look away.

"Gandalf!" Desperation and fear flashed over his small face. There was a dangerous, empty look in the wizard's eye. Rem could have called it determination, breathing just past the surface. His fingers loosened as he fixated them all with one last stare.

"Fly you fools!" And then he was gone. Falling soundlessly from the edge to Frodo's mournful scream.

"Nnnnooooo!" Hardly able to think, Rem let Aragorn drag her toward the exit. The others were way ahead of them, Boromir struggling with a kicking Frodo. The fresh air ruffled their hair, caked with a sweetness Rem had nearly forgotten. But she was numb to it. Her tears had all but dried, leaving salt in their wake.

The hobbits bawled openly, and Boromir had released Frodo in an effort to hold Gimli down. The dwarf looked liable to do considerable damage, to say the least. Behind her, she knew Legolas held an equally disturbing expression; tinged with grief. Without ado, Frodo was there, shoving her violently.

"You knew this would happen!" his normally calm demeanor was long gone. The velveteen of his soft voice scraped raw in his anguish.

"You knew he would fall, and you did nothing!...Nothing!" He went to shove her again, but was stopped by a distraught Boromir. Gimli had ceased his unvocal tirade, wildly looking toward them as the man came to her defense.

"It was not her choice!" he bellowed, hurt evident in his own voice. "Gandalf wished for her silence!"

"That's no excuse!" Frodo howled back. Rem felt her eyes welling up again. The hobbit was right…she was little better than a murderer.

"She was forbidden to speak." Aragorn cut into the argument, momentarily surprising Rem. He was apparently more aware of what occurred within the fellowship than she thought. Legolas nodded, his face tight. With the elf's confirmation, all the steam seemed to evaporate from Frodo. He collapsed, tears streaming from his impossibly large, clear eyes that were beginning to reflect the blues and greens of fading sunlight.

"I'm…I'm so sorry…" She choked out the words, praying that she could think of more to say. But there was nothing. Aragorn studied her for a moment longer, then turned toward the elf as the hiccupping sobs around them did not fade.

"Legolas, get them up." The lord of Gondor looked up, grief still fresh as he tried to counter the idea of the impossible.

"Give them a moment, for pities sake!"

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs!" He countered, "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien." Sound reason seemed on his side, and Legolas began to slowly spin into action. "Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!" The rest followed suite, Boromir gently helping Rem to her feet. She scrubbed furiously at her face, smudging away the majority of the dirt and sweat there. He anxiously patted her shoulder, but she drew him into a dearly needed embrace.

Shocked though he was at the unexpected contact, he did not resist. She hugged him fiercely for a moment, emotions roiling inside of her. She could feel Legolas' eyes burning into her back, but she ignored him. She needed this…she needed to garner some semblance of strength. Letting out a shuddering sigh, she released him, giving the warrior a tight smile as she did.

"Thank you…" She murmured, words barely audible. He nodded, uncomfortably, before turning with the others after Aragorn. She felt someone gently fondle her arm, and she looked down to see Gimli.

"Ye going to be all right, lass?" She smiled sadly, lying as best she could.

"I'll be fine." She had come to a decision. She was nothing more than a hindrance and a burden ...an emblem for their ultimate grief. She could not possibly stay. _I have to leave the fellowship._

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A/N: Please don't get mad at me! I didn't intend to leave it as a cliffhanger…but hopefully you'll forgive me with the installment of the next chapter.

Please don't forget to review!! (Its what inspired me to fire out this next chapter so quickly! They do an author good!!) And big thanks to all who have so far!!!

THANK YOUS……………..

amadoni: here you go ^_^Hope you enjoyed!

TheFightingTemerairePrettyness: But of course! I appreciate the time you took to read and review, so it's the least I can do. Yeah…poor Boromir…But I couldn't resist the chance to make him seem more human. I'll try to keep up with the timeline as much as possible; I'm familiar with the books, but I'll admit I'm lazy enough to merely pander through them while relying heavily on the imagery from the movies…so I'll try to stay loyal to the script, at least….^_^Thanks!!

bronsautracks: lol to each their own. Frankly, I'm a seafood nutter myself. When I was fourteen and went to a crawfish cookout, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven….Agree wholeheartedly with the 'see food' diet though…as a college student, it's particularly a way of life ^_~ Thanks very much, and will try to continue to do so ::cub-scout salute::

ShadowDmn: Hugs right back at you, once more ^_^ Thanks a bunch, and hope I won't disappoint!!

Ebony: Thank you!!

gppr: Thank you!! I'm glad you approve. I know I built it a bit to where he might have seemed to reflect some sort of attraction to her, but I didn't want it to be so easy. I think a guy can make any girl uncomfortable given that he isn't clear enough in his intentions, and I wanted to illustrate how inexperienced Rem is around the opposite sex, for the most part. She doesn't know how to deal with unrequited affections.

Any way (and I'll stop rambling now) I'm still honestly trying to fill in the big picture: I'm juggling ideas about Rem's ultimate role, but for the moment irritating and confusing the elf seems to remain a big part of the plan. I know there were little to no actual thoughts or reactions from him toward Rem, but I PROMISE there will be a bucket load in the next chapter when they are in Lothlorien.

Given that they are no longer running for their lives, I figure it will be easier for him to look more inward and honest with his expression. Oh, and Rem's revenge will be coming up, too. Either in the next chapter, or chapter ten. So please keep reading and reviewing!!! I love your feedback!!!

estrela jem: Lol I dunno…with today's technology, you just might be able to _ Hope this chapter didn't dissatisfy. I solemnly swear there will be Legolas introspection within the next chapter…I didn't want to break the focus of the chapter's element by switching narratives. Anyway, Lothlorien will sort of push their tense interaction forward, so his reactions to the situation will be wholly important. Thanks, and please continue to read and review!

Ariadne Evans: I agree!! They're the best of hobbitses ^_^ I'm glad you liked the past chapter; I was meaning to scrape a bit beneath Boromir's surface to get at the human within. And you help me realize that I've succeeded ^_^ He's a really stressed out guy, under immense pressure to protect everything he has ever known, and it hasn't exactly left him with a pleasant visage for us to look at. Merry and Pippin's continual interaction with him hint at the true, honorable (and good-humored) man beneath all of that stress, but not as often as one would like to completely expel his outward…doucheness lol. Please keep reading (and reviewing!!)

Black-Sun-567: Lol Right back at ya!!! Hope you liked this update, too!! I'm touched you really appreciate Rem's predicament ^_^ I think it would be tough to be in her situation (….until the lemon chapter, of course…but not withstanding…^_~) Please continue to read and review!! I'll do my best!! Thanks!!!

KakashiFangirl43: Lol Yes, what is danger without a colorful snack? Thanks for the review ^_^

chelsea chelsea jean jean: Lol well, you know those hobbits…always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm glad you feel it was realistic in Rem's case…I personally couldn't resist because there are plenty of girls out there whose luck it would be to have that happen to them while camping out with a bunch of men….and I might have been a teeny bit sugar high (I've been drinking a lot of tea lately with cinnamon in it) lol I won't say what Rem plans to do, but I do have an idea in place. I'm really flattered you like my writing/this story ^_^ In as far as some Rem and Legolas action, you'll have to be a little patient…but I swear it's coming soon (three chapters at most, give or take)!!! Oh, and as an off topic note, thrilled you love calamari, too!! Forget the hobbits, more for us!!! Thanks for reading and reviewing ^_^

MaruiBuntaWorshipper: Oh, Rem's just coming up with fancy idioms to explain why she doesn't have the much coveted 'flat stomach' we girls all want. She's got potential to be lean, but she's kind of squishy in that she's more active with studying rather than actual aerobics or whatnot. So yes, she isn't fat, but that doesn't mean she won't suck in her stomach while at the beach. She dreads bending over while her tummy is on display. I hope that clarifies….Please continue to read and review ^_^

Kaya Nah: I'm glad you like!! And I'm glad you like Rem's attitude, too lol Please continue to read and review ^_^


	9. Consequence

Disclaimer: The story for this fanfiction belongs to Tolkien and company and I humbly bow to his genius…

A/N: Happy Valentines, everybody ^_^

I am also proud to admit that I believe I may have come across a purpose for Rem's presence in this fiction ^_^ Hurray!!

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'Your shadow, quietly

Like a vagrant poison needle,

Stitches my footsteps

Your radiance, lithely

Like lightening striking a water tower

Cuts down the source of my life'

~Tite Kubo

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The evening waned and the sky blushed a raw orange in its upset. Deep blue stole across the horizon, bridging together the slate grey clouds and glittering stars. The yellowed grass, stretching across the planes as far as the eye could see, shivered in a stray breeze amidst broken rock, and the beckoning canopy of woods loomed near. But this was all lost on the members of the fellowship. Everyone was fatigued, both physically and emotionally. Rem felt drained, like a wash cloth that had been twisted and let out to dry in a crumpled heap.

She still had her mind made up: she would sneak away in the dead of night, never to be seen again. At least not by anyone here: all whom she had betrayed. She should have never listened to Gandalf's adamant demand. He had been wrong…she had followed bad advice, and all were now made to suffer from her blind agreement. Perhaps in time, when it was realized Gandalf had transcended and was not in fact deceased, the scar of her failure would fade on the hearts of her companions.

Of course, she wanted to convince them of that now. Erupt into an inspiring, fiery speech about destiny and Gandalf's testimonial will. That he would return, like smoke from a burnt candle in a reckoning of cause and effect. But… Rem was pretty sure it was too incredulous a thought to be taken seriously. It would most likely only dredge up more pain…especially for Frodo; the same gentle hobbit whom had probably never in his life raised a hand against any person.

He had seen fit to give in to his grief and clenched his fists after shoving her. His bitter upbraiding was still ringing in her ears, and the breeze from the world about her seemed hollow and empty somehow. _Better to leave things as they are…_She thought dejectedly. _They're better off without me._ She was a traitor in their eyes…she was sure of it. She had pretty good intuition about these sorts of things, and they wanted her gone. So as soon as they took refuge for the night, she would set out on a journey of her own.

Another strand from the river, a webbed creek, caught her eye as it flowed past them from the bowels of the mountains that now lay at their backs. _If I follow the river…it's sure to lead to a town somewhere, right? _ She was going to find out, one way or another.

The darkness deepened, and the night felt punctured they their noisy traveling. It seemed luck would be on Rem's side: although Aragorn had insisted that they reach the safe folds of Lothlórien by this time, it was obvious that it would not happen this night. It stretched deeper into the woods, and that was now too far to reach. Aragorn halted, and the rest of the party followed suite.

"We shall camp here for the night," he instructed, "and leave at first light." Robotically, they set about unpacking the fewest of possessions: Enough to eat for their meal and lay down their heads for a few hours. Rem set down her things, sitting down on a low flat stone within the clearing Aragorn had selected.

Their encampment was surrounded by woods on all sides, keeping them hidden from prying eyes in the foothills. She was careful to stick further away from the others, certain they would want their space. Gingerly, she went about pretending to unfurl her sleeping pallet, shuffling through her bag under the keen interest of watchful eyes.

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It was quiet…too quiet. Rem wished there was a breeze or something. Some disturbance to draw away from the loud, dried grass as it crunched beneath her foot. But it couldn't be helped. As soon as the first snores had echoed about the clearing, she had arisen and gone about repacking the blankets and thin mat used for sleeping.

She had only laid them out in the first place to fool the others, feigning sleep. Not that she believed anyone was paying her any serious attention. All were wallowing within the recesses of their own minds, mourning inwardly while continuing to go about their business. _Funny how the body may go on living, when the soul feels like it's already dead._ She bit her lip at the cynical reflection, wondering if she was more lucid somehow whenever things had a way of turning morbid.

She crept nearly noiselessly away, her heart heavy. She wouldn't allow herself the luxury to cry, though. She had made this bed, and now she would have to lie in it. The welcome feel of hot, wet tears would stay locked inside until she was far away. The tight clench of misery inside of her was the least of what she deserved for what she had done…for what she hadn't done.

A small voice inside of her piped up that what she was doing was wrong: that her disappearance in the dead of night would probably cause Gimli to worry. The dwarf had a bit of a soft spot for her, and had been nothing but understanding in his own, gruff way…and then there was Boromir: misplaced wherein his affections seemed to stem from, he would still in all likelihood have concern for the girl that reminded him of his beloved Aldisra.

Maybe even Sam would be anxious for her sake. The hobbit had been kind, despite how obtuse he probably thought of her at times by her behavior. But she stamped that down; she'd espied that look in their eyes. The betrayal, the hurt…they burned deep inside of them, and no matter what words of comfort they might have offered in spite of their own sorrow, it wouldn't quell their true feelings of resentment toward her.

A twig snapped. Rem stopped walking, tense at the sound. Her heartbeat began to increase, and she was positive that whatever set it to pounding would hear it thumping erratically inside her chest. Moving slowly, she groped for an arrow from the quiver at the side of her back. There had hardly been room for it what with her big knapsack, but she wasn't stupid. She knew the importance of being armed in these woods, so near to Moria.

Rem felt the firm edge of feather at the end of an arrow, brushing her fingers against it, she waited. When another twig snapped, she grabbed it without further hesitation and notched it to her bow, which until recently had seen better days. A figure approached, emerging from the density of the woods. She tightened her bow string, fear making a sour taste in her mouth. _Oh, the hell with this!_ Frantically, she released the arrow, deciding to ask questions later.

Spinning around she ran as fast as she could, bow clutched to her chest, breath loud in her own ears. Barely a leaf stirred, and yet she was aware that whatever she had shot as was now in front of her; standing arrogantly with his arms crossed atop the giant decaying log of a tree which time had long ago brought low.

"And where are you off to?" Rem winced at Legolas' acrid tone. Fear slowly being replaced by something far worse: dread.

"You…followed me." She fought to keep her voice steady. It actually seemed to pay off. However, it wasn't enough to keep the elf at bay as he leapt gracefully from his perch in front of her. A sudden thought occurred to her, in turn strengthening her resolve in that her voice never shook.

"Hey, you were noisy a few minutes ago! Aren't elves supposed to be super stealthy or something?" She blurted out. _So much for sounding calm and collected. _His eyes narrowed, taking slow steps toward her. The breeze Rem had earlier wished for then slipped through their hair, his golden locks nearly entrancing her as the wind gave it life. Cautiously, she matched his movements, circling and backing away from him to maintain the greatest proximity of distance.

"I wanted to make you aware of my presence…For what little good it did me," she blushed at his words, but felt anger scratching past that at his next comment. "Your aim, however, is still quite terrible. A master archer should be able to anticipate an opponent's every move." _Screw you! _She glared at him,

"What do you want, any way?" She snapped, taking another small step back at his continued approach. Her eyes widened at the thump of dead wood behind her, and how dangerously close the elf was. He leaned forward, caging her in.

"My question still stands. Where were you going?" She wet her dry lips, thinking up a quick lie.

"I was looking for a stream. I wanted to take a bath." Steel blue eyes met her dark brown.

"I don't believe you." She gave a small start, barely noticeable, but pushed onward with her argument.

"What? But that's stupid—what else would I be doing?! I have all of my things because I've got my soaps, clothes, and towel…and since I wasn't sure when I would find a stream or how long I'd take I thought it would be best to be packed up so I'd be ready to leave with…" her words drained away as finely toned hands were placed on either side near her head, effectively trapping her. Rem's mouth felt impossibly dry.

"You would wander in these woods alone…unprotected and vulnerable to attack?! Orcs roam these outer woods!" His voice was soft, but she could sense the menace writhing within. He was pissed.

"I'm not unprotected!" She retorted, gesticulating with her bow in the little area now available betwixt them. But he cut her off, continuing with his growing tirade.

"You are a young woman, Rem. Alone and unaided. When orcs found you, they would rape and torture you…" She tried to make herself as small as possible as his voice began to strengthen in volume, fierce in its growing anger.

"And only after they were through, they would gut you and leave you for dead! I had thought you smarter than this, Lady Eltrin! Now tell me, what were you doing out here on your own?!" Dead silence answered him. Rem watched him with wide eyes, shadowed with tears. For once, she was speechless. But it didn't last long.

Biting her lip, she snarled and shoved one of his arms, willing herself to be far away from his lithe, encaging form. He allowed it, and the sheer proof of this was in how he delicately removed it and placed it at his side. She stomped away, infuriated in how he acted like he could manipulate her.

"Why do you care?!" She screamed, not caring who would hear them, "Tell me why you would even give a fuck whether I stay or go!" In her rage, she missed her footing, and stumbled on the damn hem of her worn dress. It was a wonder the stupid thing had yet to rip with all the infliction it had seen by her treading on it so much lately. The slippery loam urged her to fall, and she landed painfully on her knees. She dropped her things, letting them thump onto the forest floor. It was all too much: frustration and grief were welling up within her again, vomiting into another outburst in front of Legolas. The second tantrum since her coming to this rotten world of predestination and bitter reminders…and it was twice too many.

"It's my fault…All of it!" She sobbed, furious with herself: with everything. Yet she was angry at the fates more than anything because of how they were causing her life to unfold; everything was unraveling. And the worst part of it, the utmost cruelty of the whole thing, was that she should have seen it all coming. She knew nearly every stupid nuance of events that were supposed to happen in this miserable fairy tale. Her father used to say it like a prayer…Reciting what should have remained fiction.

"I'm so… helpless. I'm useless at whatever I do here…" she gave him a twisted, watery smile, before forcing her gaze to look away. He probably hated her. "I never should have listened to Gandalf…" she hiccupped, "I should have…I…"

"You gave him your word." It wasn't a question. She looked up, surprised he had even spoken. He knelt before her, uncertainly. Tentatively, as if he were afraid of startling her, he reached forward and gingerly stroked a lock of her hair in a nearly intimate gesture. His azure eyes locked with her own, and for a split second, Rem was struck by how strange they really were…to be so ageless in that handsome face…

"There was nothing you could do," she batted his hand away, tiredly. The vinegar of her more tumultuous emotions already leaving her system after having fully surfaced, making her feel drained.

"You don't know that." She murmured. He captured her hand, raising it so she would have to lock eyes with him again. He squeezed reassuringly.

"You kept your promise…to Mithrandir," his turbulent, stormy eyes bore into hers, "it was as he wished." She snuck her hand away, but he was not so easily deterred.

"Running away is not the answer." She swallowed thickly.

"I know…" _But I can't take that look you're giving me…that you're all giving me, behind my back. You know it's my fault. And Gandalf…there was fear in his eyes, I'm sure of it._

Unaware of her thoughts, he nodded, taking her hands as he arose in order to make her stand. Thinking to lighten the situation, he spoke once more.

"Do you realize," he murmured softly, a small grin gently curling at his lips, "that this is the second time you have cried in my arms?" She took the bait. Rem whipped her hand away, disgusted.

"I'm not in your arms, jackass…" She paused, and then erupted aloud in sudden recognition.

"Holy shit, you just…did you just make a joke?!..." The mild smile slipped away, a look of distaste replacing it. _But…he smiled…He had actually smiled at me…_The thought was a little dazing, as he had never done it before. He was even more beautiful when he smiled: mischievous somehow. It made her chest tighten considerably, but in what she was not quite sure.

"A lady should not curse." He reprimanded. She waved her hand, as if clearing the air. But her cheeks did stain with her rising chagrin.

"Uh…sorry…but," she fixed him with a curious look, "you've never joked around with me before…You've always been…so…serious." He shrugged, carelessly.

"That was then…and this is now." She rolled her eyes, picking up her things as she did.

"Yeah, thanks Captain Vagueness. Now everything's right as rain, isn't it?..." Rem griped.

"Isn't it?" He asked dismissively. She stood up straight, her pack and quiver once again slung over her shoulder. She opened her mouth to reply.

"…"

But nothing came to her. Not at first. She was struck in how he stared back at her, arms crossed over his chest, studying her. For once, hostility wasn't playing a major directive in their interaction…not much at any least.

"It's a start…" She admitted. _And it's better than nothing._

"Come, we must return." He gestured her to follow, and turned on his heel to head back to the glade.

"Wait!" She scuttled after him, and he stopped until she was in step with him. "You never answered my question," she confessed. A sour nausea was replacing the tight feeling in her chest. "Do you… not want me to leave…?" She had meant to ask if he actually cared. But that turn of phrase had slipped away from her, like rain down a stream.

Her courage, which was usually found in being upset, was deserting her. The latter was nearly a foundation for Rem in terms of her finding her nerve. From it, she could stretch herself into someone more than she truly was…anger often made her stronger than she really was. He glanced at her, the intensity of his eyes making her blush and drop hers to the earth. He returned his gaze to what lay before them before he answered cryptically.

"The dwarf would not forgive you if you did; he has a great fondness for you." She wasn't satisfied with his answer.

"That's not what I—"

"As I recall…You never answered mine as well." He interrupted. It was spoken plainly, clearly indicating that she ought not to bring the subject up again further. She sighed, but brooked no further argument. Quiet descended between them, and the pale glitter of stars welcomed them as they arrived back at camp. Dark lumps of their huddled companions moved slightly in their sleep. Yet she would swear some were still awake, their motionlessness giving them away completely.

"You really ought to bathe, Rem. …As poor an excuse it may have been for leaving in the middle of the night…" startled, she looked at him. Seeing he had caught her eye, Legolas fixed her with a wry smile that nonetheless looked beautiful on his apparently cynical lips. "In all seriousness…you really do stink…" She sputtered for a second, then found her voice enough to hiss back in retaliation.

"yeah, well…you're not exactly a rose bud yourself!!"

"Get some sleep." He ordered firmly, leaving her to her own devices as he retired on his sleeping pallet. It did not escape her notice that he did not lay down, nor settle beyond seating himself upon the blanket. It would seem he would be monitoring her the rest of the night as it seemed he was playing sentry. _Jolly._

Grudgingly, she unfurled her blanket after retrieving it from where it was stowed away. She laid down, intent on getting a little shut-eye, after all. She stared up at the vast, black and blue vault of the sky speckled with clouds. She could admit, at least to herself, that the elf had helped to ease her suffering. He certainly wasn't as pissed off as she felt he ought to be…So…maybe the others weren't as mad as she thought as well? _Maybe…_She stole a quick glance at the wakeful elf, and hurriedly returned her gaze to that above. _I think it's going to be all right._

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Dawn appeared like pale fingers scratching across the sky. Sickly hues of greenish yellow and soon gave way to dull pink and shadowed clouds over the horizon. Rem felt little better than she had last night. Come to think of it, while she did feel less depressed, she nonetheless now felt rather humiliated for crying in front of the elvish prince…again. If nothing else, he must see her as someone that was weak both emotionally and mentally. For some inexplicable reason, that possibility really bothered her.

She arose from her blanket, feeling restless despite the few hours of sleep she was able to wrest from the remainder of the night. Legolas, however, looked as fresh and recovered as ever; perhaps like he had slept on the comfiest of feather beds. She spared him the smallest of glances, out of jealousy. _Jerk._

It seemed breakfast would be skipped this morning, in light of the fact that time was of a luxury none seemed able to afford. The hobbits seemed particularly depressed by this: comfort of a morsel in the mouths were likely the only thing they felt would bring a semblance of peace to their minds so shortly after the demise of the beloved Gray Pilgrim. It was clear they had not slept well, either.

Judging by the drawn, tired faces of Boromir and Aragorn, Rem guessed that they had slept even worse. Most likely because they had dreamed wakefully with their hands on their swords what with danger still looming behind them in form of Moria and its vicious inhabitants. She couldn't say she blamed them: paranoia wasn't that bad a thing if one planned for survival. They seemed eager to leave their current encampment behind them, the ranger more so than Boromir in the likelihood that Aragorn was very comfortable in the company of elves.

Rem's stomach groaned loudly as the day stretched on, but she ignored it as best she could. Slowly at first, almost unsusceptible to her notice, the forest began to change. The trees, which had been thickly clustered compared to where they had been, began to spread out. Pathways seemed to be opening up, and though loam was consistent in its carpeting the earth, the texture seemed different. Golden leaves, kissed by the last fading traces of emerald, gently stirred in the breeze.

The trees were also growing wider, giving way to broader trunks and deeply gray skin. Rem remembered from somewhere that these ancient rivals of sequoia were called Mellryn trees, and bore yellow blossoms when the season called for it. A companionable silence stretched between the fellowship, almost to the extent in which Rem felt more at ease she had in days. She figured it probably had to do with the initial feeling of intuitive safety of being enclosed in the tree-dwellers, the Galadhrim's, territory. The rough bass of Gimli, muffled by the crisp sound of leaves crunching underfoot, addressed the young hobbits that had started to fall behind.

"Stay close, young hobbits. They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch of terrible power…" as Rem glanced back, she saw a distracted look cross Frodo's face, " All who look upon her, fall under her spell…and are never seen again." She faced forward, well aware of what was about to happen. She made of point of forcing herself not to tense, even if the knowledge that she was being watched caused that initial reaction. Sam's hesitant voice sounded concerned.

"Mr. Frodo?" She bit her lip, keeping her eyes level with the terrain in front of her, toward Aragorn's back.

"Well, this is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli boasted gruffly.

"I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox…Oh!" As if on cue to contradict that statement, elves equipped with dangerously beautiful bows stepped up from around them. While Rem had been expecting them to appear, she couldn't have guessed that they would nearly melt into the scenery like that, or possibly drop from the trees. _Wish I could camouflage myself like that._ She thought idly, raising her hands in peaceful surrender. From the corner of her eye, she detected Legolas—a tense, slightly surprised expression on his face as he matched theLothlórien elves in stance and demeanor with his own weaponry.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark…" a dry voice baited. Gimli growled darkly at the insult, and had she been closer to him, she would have laid her hand on his shoulder. But as it was, she was preoccupied with keeping her hands up where the Galadhrim could see them. At the back of her mind, she was worried about being perceived as a threat…about standing out of place. A lovely sound, musical quality, came from the throat of Aragorn, drawing Rem from her musings.

"Haldir o Lórien. Henion aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn." (Haldir of Lórien. We desire your need your protection)" Rem blinked, scuffing her foot in distraction, eyeing the wicked looking arrows still aimed in her direction.

_Ah, so that's Haldir…_She risked a quick look._ He's…got a wide forehead._ He was handsome, much like the rest of his kindred….She was only trying to lighten the situation and humor herself until sharp, pointy objects of death weren't trained on her. Without intending to, her eyes fell to Legolas, and he was staring back at her. She felt her face grow hot, quickly dropping her gaze, unwilling to admit just why.

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It had been strange…Un-grounding. Never before, in his centuries of existence, had the elf had so close in proximity to a friend's decease. He had been unsure what to think…how to breath. Until he saw her. She looked wounded, deep beneath the surface. And while she sustained little injury, was smudged with earth, and bathed in sweat…there was a dead look in her eyes. Like it was she who had perished in Moria, and was now a ghost in their presence…a mere piece of what and who she should have been.

She hardly even acknowledged Frodo as the enraged, grief stricken hobbit had laid into her. Giving in to a stark contrast of his former self as sorrow whittled away the dignities and kindness he usually showed. Had he been less out of sorts, he would have aided Boromir in ceasing the hobbit's verbal and physical lashing upon the girl.

Yet the mist in his eyes, clouding his senses save for the deadened emotion of anguish, slowly now only began to part. Allowing him to swallow them, as he was wont to do with painful sensation, and move forward. It was advice to live by which he had once given to Rem herself, when she had been lost in hysterics…It was best for one to focus, to set un-pleasantries aside. So that was what he had done.

They had later been forced to make camp for the night, not yet enclosed by the safe haven of Lothlórien; amongst her boughs of Mellryn trees. He had been studying Rem more ravenously than ever before, his intuition screaming that—with that dead look in her eyes—Rem was bound to do something impulsive. Something stupid. Sure enough, as the darkness of night stole through the air, she had tried to flee.

He would admit, at least to himself, that some part of him was maliciously relieved in the fact that his consistent observation of her had paid off in the end. But that did not mean he had been pleased with its outcome. Legolas suspected, in the deepest recess of his mind, that she might have some connection to the Dark Lord. But, she had been acting too wounded for that.

In following her, confronting her with the idiocy of her intentions in running away, and in pointing out how vulnerable she was in such a state, she had come undone. For the second time before him. It easily crumbled even the smallest inclination for him to entertain the idea that she had intended Gandalf's death, especially as his elf ears had caught a few words exchanged by them now and again. He had heard only a few sentences in passing, but from the gist of it back then, he assumed it had something to do with her wanting to change something…prevent something which would be for them to rue. But too late he eventually understood.

She knew of the inevitable death of Mithrandir, of the fate that had befallen the dwarf's kin, and whatever else Melkor seemingly threw in their path. Comforting her this time had been surprisingly easier than last, possibly because he knew her now better than before. Not much, but enough to soothe her tears. Though it has still been rather unpleasant. He hated to see a woman cry. Hence his rather undignified jib at the state of how she smelled: to lessen the focus of his own turbulent feelings.

It occurred to him, grudgingly, that perhaps he ought to have a talk with her…and soon. He honestly knew next to nothing significant about her, aside from her usual tendencies of erratic emotions and obsession of bathing…although he could appreciate the latter.

Besides, learning more of her through her own words would likely enlighten any further action, or rather lack thereof, that she would choose to take in their future. Perchance there was some control she had over events that were bound to happen, after all. It could give him, and the others, a clue as to what awaited them beyond the present and in the hands of fate. Yes, it could only aid them…The desire to learn more about her…could only stem to greater things, to the benefit of all.

But that distinctive reason for his decision later wavered when they were accosted along the borders of Lothlórien, if only for an instant; almost as though his higher self saw through its guise as a frail excuse to more truly approach the mortal as someone more than a skulking observer, an aid to her whenever she came to injury.

It only took that look, that one worried and heart-melting look in her doe-brown eyes, liquid in the flickering light streaming down from the canopy as her brown hair swayed…The sight of her while the arrows of his kindred were aimed at her lovely throat, her heaving breasts; he could not look away. Even when she detected the burning intensity of his stare and blushingly looked elsewhere: he could not stop staring. The grounds for exactly why teasingly remaining only just out of his reach…but he could unquestioningly feel the way his blood stirred.

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A/N: Melkor is one of the exiled of the Valar (mortals think of them as gods, elves think of them as agents/angels) who serve Eru, or 'God'.

Any way, to sum it up, Melkor could be thought as the equivalent of Lucifer in the Christian sense: a fallen one who grew jealous and therefore dedicates himself to breeding destruction for all creation. Or even as a necessary evil for balance like Shiva (god of destruction and chaos) in Hinduism.

ALSO, soon to come in the next chapter…..limes!!! just what this fruit basket of a fiction is missing…

THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED!!!!! Personalized replies will accompany next chapter (kind of pressed for time, right now…and wanted to post this before heading in for work) Apologies, but I hope you all enjoy and continue to read my mindless meanderings of my imagination and LOTR---starring and featuring a certain elf = 3


	10. Beneath The Leaves

Disclaimer: All things Middle Earth belong strictly to Tolkien…I'm just borrowing them for some unprofitable fun ^_^

A/N: re-edited 05/18/09

WARNING: Sexual content in this chapter.

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'We reach out with our hands

Brush away the clouds and pierce the sky

To grab the moon and mars

But we still can't reach the truth'

~Tite Kubo

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Twilight glistened its last glimmer in the deepening wood. The day had stretched on with little conversation betwixt the members of the fellowship as they traipsed further into the depths of Lothlórien. Their escort had been quiet as well: moving restlessly at their sides as the last burning embers of sunlight streamed down through the thick trees.

In fact, the only noise to be heard in Rem's knowledge was her own gurgling stomach. She'd been embarrassed at first, wishing she hadn't skipped the evening meal the other night while wallowing in self pity. Yet after a time, when she had finally been contemplating punching herself in the gut in the hopes that it would cease her tummy from growling, she had been taken aside by a strange elf. He had clear eyes and soft golden hair that was braided back in the elvish fashion.

Without a word, he'd handed her a thick triangle that resembled bread, giving her a meaningful look that indicated she ought to eat it. She wanted to crawl into a hole. Smiling uncertainly, she ventured a bite of what she could only guess was actually Lembas. It had an odd taste: it wasn't sweet, nor was it hearty. She could only compare its flavor to that of a pita pocket, but even the memory of that was fading in light of the one now riding her tongue.

As she chewed thoughtfully, digesting its taste, she realized Legolas was giving her what she could only surmise was a funny look. She'd seen a rainbow array in various degrees of animosity and general observance color those stormy of eyes of his, but she failed in the ability to specifically recognize this one. Baffled, she swallowed and watched as he quickly averted his gaze, perchance hoping she had missed his slip of composure...

Still, he recovered quickly enough. He hardly glanced in her direction thereafter.

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"You've got to be shitting me." Rem muttered as quietly as possible. Still, some of the elves had probably heard her.

The entire party had halted beneath an enormous mellryn tree, its true height indiscernible in the descending darkness. Against the gray, silvery bark a rope lay stark against it in a raucous hue: thrown down to them from those above. They were instructed to climb it up into the welcoming branches above. While the aged white rope that had been twisted by elves was perfectly sturdy, and even boasted knots to ease one's grip in scaling it, Rem didn't think it would be that easy.

First of all she was still wearing a dress. And secondly, she wasn't too keen on someone looking up it. Thirdly, she was out of clean pants; the only pair provided to her by the elves in Rivendell. _Why the hell didn't I insist on more?_ Cynically, her subconscious answered: _Because you were too preoccupied aside from pouting over having to go in the first place. _She winced, sighing as she watched as the others—one by precarious one—ascended the rope. In light of the circumstance, she opted to go last. Probably aware of her reasons, no one contested her in that decision.

The remainder of her escort, being three elves, gestured for to join the others. She looked at their fair faces: hair gently swaying in the cool breeze with moonlight only just beginning to bestow the halo of a kiss atop their heads. They returned her stare unflinchingly, perchance a bit impatient for her hesitance. She approached cautiously, staring up into the abyss, before turning back around in haste to meet their eyes warningly.

"Don't you dare look up!" With that admonishment, she gamely tackled the rope, secretly praying to every member of the Valar that she didn't fall. Or worse, break the stupid rope and then fall. It would be just her luck to wear through before her use, at least enough to snap under her weight. Well, her weight and the weight of her pack. Her bow and quiver weren't exactly feather weight, either.

She struggled, making her way upward while striving not to lose her footing on the convenient knots. Still, it occurred more than once, in due thanks to her ridiculous dress. It made her nervous that her fierce death-grip was the only thing that kept her falling on a number of occasions. Soon as she had the chance, she was switching out her frivolous gowns for shirts and pants. They were far more practical. _Why the hell didn't Elrond think to provide me with something more practical?!_ She thought mournfully. But deep down, her heart wasn't really in the mental barb.

He'd been distracted with other, more significant things. Like the fate of Middle Earth with the One Ring, and the fact that his daughter Arwen was a heartbeat away from leaving him for a mortal life rather than the western shores. Biting back another sigh, she gratefully reached a large platform that looked quite a strikingly like a broad leaf. Or a surf board. _Right, Rem…what would a surf board be doing…_ She found her thoughts interrupted by a pair of strong, masculine arms lifting her up where she had been merely scrabbling to heave herself onto its slippery edge. _…out here…?_

Involuntarily, she let out a squeak in her surprise. She would have been indignant, but turbulent, stormy eyes met her own, and she fought desperately to keep the rush of color from her cheeks. _Why the hell am I blushing?_ She thought frantically._ It's just Legolas…you know…elf-boy…Lego-butt…his royal elf-iness. _It was a losing battle; at least the deepening shades of the cool early evening kept her flaming face from being really visible. Unless elves had night vision. He set her on her feet, then stepped aside as though he had never been there, yet he chanced a look back at her. Again, his expression was unreadable: unfathomable to her coco eyes.

Unsure of herself, she took a step forward, but stopped abruptly as she noticed his and Aragorn's approach to Haldir. They spoke in low tones, but Rem caught the unmistakable sound of elvish as it rolled off of the March Warden's tongue.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion…" His warm eyes then fell to the ranger, "Ah, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen. (Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil_…_Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us.)

"Haldir" Aragorn replied softly.A rough snort interrupted them.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves…Speak words we can all understand!" Haldir's expression hardened.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves, since the dark days." He said distastefully.

"And do you know what this dwarf says to that?" Gimli bit out peevishly. "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul! (I spit upon your grave!). Rem cringed, even though she didn't really understand what it was the dwarf had uttered. But the sharpening of everyone's facial features made her aware of how rude it had possibly been. Aragorn quickly clapped a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, his voice strained.

"That…was not so courteous!" In looking toward the dwarf, Haldir's face smoothed as his eyes capriciously wandered past him and caught sight of Rem, standing awkwardly to the side. Legolas seemed to notice this as well, surreptitiously stepping into his line of vision. Aragorn then began speaking once more, redirecting his attention before he could react to the prince's subtle interception. Letting out a breath she hadn't even been aware she had been holding, Rem decided now would be as good a time as any to back away.

The march warden's eyes then alighted upon another of their party, alarm quietly stitching across the surface of his visage.

"You bring great evil with you." He turned his serious gaze back upon Aragorn, speaking fiercely.

"You can go no further."

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Rem stood off to the side, the minutes ticking by like hours. For all she knew, they were getting nowhere fast with the way Haldir and Aragorn exchanged words. She resisted the urge to heave a sigh, her restless thoughts directing her movements. Knowingly, but still somewhat unconscious to what decision she had made, she sought out another: one to whom she felt inclined to speak. Spotting him, she ambled over and eased herself down into a sitting position next to Frodo, who looked a bit startled at her sudden appearance. Or perhaps intrusion.

"Can I sit here?" She asked, a bit nervous about his reply. She was careful not to sit too close to the edge, hugging her knees to herself as best she could and awaited his reply.

"Yes…go ahead." There was an awkward silence, punctured, of course by the soft elvish still appearing in conversation a few feet behind them.

"I want you to know," Frodo's voice melted into the air, thick with emotion; thick like velvet until it faded into the stray breeze. "That I am truly sorry…for my behavior toward you." His beautiful, wide blue eyes alighted on her. A sadness lingered there, and Rem found herself wondering that maybe his eyes were in fact so blue because he had not yet cried enough.

"No…that's fine. You were upset." He seemed alarmed by this admission, so she elaborated. "I don't really blame you…I even blamed myself." His face twisted into a grimace at her words.

"I was wrong to lay a hand on you. It wasn't your fault…not really. Gandalf wished for your silence…You merely complied." She shrugged half-heartedly, feeling something loosening inside at his admission.

"I now wish I hadn't…but I wonder…" He fixed her with a slightly curious look, but she trailed off, unwilling to finish her sentence. _I wonder if it would have really made a difference._ From how things were going, she had an inkling events would happen no matter how much she meddled. It was a frightening thought. If her guess was correct, then her presence here really was entirely pointless…a testament to her uselessness.

Unlike other members of this fellowship.

She could offer no protection: constantly in need of being safe guarded herself. She bore no ethereal possession in need of destruction for the good of the world, was of no comfort to anyone, and would bear witness to the dismemberment of this whole escapade following Boromir's death.

"You know, I could live a thousand lifetimes, and still not measure up to you." She admitted quietly. He didn't look like he understood, as he fixated her with an odd expression, as though she had spoken in jest. She shook her head.

"Never mind." Wind whispered through their hair, caressing them as the night dragged on. Aragorn and Haldir still spoke in low tones, their words spoken fervently. Rem stared upward at the foliage, pretending she didn't feel the stares directed at her back. Then again, the evening's lengthening embrace may only be playing tricks with her tired eyes.

Without her notice, Boromir came to sit beside Frodo, emerging from the shadows. She gave a small start at the sound of his voice gently permeating her fogged senses.

"Gandalf's death was not in vain." He murmured quietly. She looked at him, feeling a bit hollow as he continued. Frodo remained silent as well.

"Nor would he have you," he looked pointedly from Rem to Frodo, "either of you, give up hope." She nodded, but her comrade was motionless, perhaps digesting Boromir's words. He thought for a minute, and spoke again.

"You carry a heavy burden, Frodo….We all see it…It's weighing on you… heavily, at that." He glanced at Frodo, who shifted uncomfortably. Rem's heart went out to the poor guy; he hadn't asked for this…he hadn't asked for any of it to ever happen. She felt small: petty and churlish for worrying about herself while, in reality—this reality, at least—millions of lives were at stake because of a thing strung about a hobbit's neck.

Boromir's eyes suddenly alighted upon her, and she thought that maybe he was referring to them both with his next carefully spoken words. "…Don't carry the weight of the dead." The irony of that statement, coming from him, was enough to make Rem feel even smaller.

A soft sound, like oil brushing over silk, was the only warning of Haldir's approach. His eyes flickered from her and Boromir, then fell steadily to Frodo.

"You will follow me."

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Breathless would be the operative word Rem would choose for how she felt. Not just because the scenery of elvish lights cascading in various hues of mysterious blue shone throughout the branches and halls of the Galadhrim; she was pretty exhausted by this point.

She really hadn't gotten enough sleep two nights past, and her thread-bare emotions felt like they were—by this point—worn to the hem; on the verge of unraveling. She wanted to lay back in a bath and mull over her problems in the hot water…that is, if such a thing were available in Lothlórien. A hot meal sounded welcome as well…She was crossing her fingers.

Haldir had led them, among others of his ilk, through the thickening woods until they reached another vantage point within a mellryn tree for a small rest. Rem wasn't too pleased, granted that she'd had a tough time getting up the first one. Getting down hadn't been exactly pleasant either. She'd been the first one to book ass down the rope so no one would be privy to her embarrassing problem.

Clambering up the second ensconce for elvish sentinels was no less a pain than before. But at least Legolas hadn't heaved her up like last time. She didn't want to be handled or treated as something frail that might break. She wasn't weak…merely a girl with a streak of bad luck in becoming injury prone. Still, he seemed more intent on assisting her since their little interlude in the outer woods. He hadn't spoken to her since then. Not even sarcasticly uttering to stir her ire, as he had once or twice before induldged.

No. He was acting more direct…or rather, not emotionally, but going through the mechanics of traveling in a reclusive state of mind. Withdrawn from the company about them, pensively staring out at the scenery when he wasn't watching her openly; it was a little unnerving. At least before when she'd caught him staring, he had the decency to look away and fake disinterest. Now, however…She cut off that line of thought immediately. She wouldn't stew on this until she had a proper bath…that was her promise to herself.

Otherwise, her tumultuous feelings would start pouring out. Maybe in the configuration of salt water from her tired eyes…So, with an iron grip on what shred of dignity she had left, she would refrain from thinking about anything until she had the luxury of privacy.

She slept restlessly in the few hours of night that remained, cuddled in her blanket. She awoke once or twice, catching the dim silhouette of her companions every now and again in her sleep hazed eyes.

When sunlight once again slanted against the mellryn trees, they arose to finish the remainder of their journey toward Caras Galadhon. The path they took wove around and about underbrush, going up and down a few rocky outcroppings that made Rem slightly homesick in that it reminded her of the forest-encrusted sand dunes she used to explore as a child. She could remember clambering unsteadily up the thick, cascading sand; the reward of rich soil green with earth and wild trees atop the hillocks lingering before her.

As a kid, she would pretend she were someplace else, roving the woods on some sort of quest or adventure…She shifted her bag slightly, bringing herself back from her reverie. These were hardly dunes, though. Anyway, that was long ago. _I'm recalling the past just like an old biddy_. She thought somewhat wryly. Still, as far as the past had originally felt, being far from home made it only that much more elusive and farther still.

So preoccupied in her subconscious meandering, she nearly barreled into Aragorn as they crested another small hill. It boasted a spectacular view, especially of a crown of mellyrn trees rising up in the distance. Mists rose in the fading gold of sunset; the sun dipping low in the evening sky. Haldir's voice, pride evident in his tone, cut through the awed silence.

"Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

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The light swallowed their surroundings in an ethereal glow, cascading down the deep shades of silver bark and the architecture about the mellryn tree they now ascended. He kept his eyes forward, striving to keep them from straying toward the peripheral of his vision. He had made a point of staying ahead, unwilling to allow himself the temptation of looking toward her again.

It was very nearly strange; his curiosity and apprehension in regards to Rem had, for the most part, been set aside. He no longer felt compelled to observe every waking step she took in order to figure out her motives. The other night, when the tears streaked down her face at the agony of feeling responsible for Gandalf's death, he had realized she had no real malicious intentions.

He felt at a loss as to how to view her now, in that his original impression of the girl was fractured from that revelation beyond repair. True, to realize she was merely an innocent bystander caught up in the thick of things—both past and present (should he believe her a seer) and not an agent of the Dark Lord was a bit of a relief. Still, this meant that despite his time spent in watching Rem, nothing else regarding her had been unveiled to him.

The prince disliked the lower advantage that presented: unpredictability often left him disoriented and unpleasantly ungrounded to the possible situations that would no doubt later present themselves if Rem could in fact aid them in avoiding catastrophe. Loathe as he was at first to admit it, he had been so intent in seeing ill of her that he had been blind to all else and so knew nothing of her. Because of this, he felt compelled to rebuild her image, to better define her character... to understand the girl who was proving herself a suggestion above any other typical mortal.

She had a fiery temper, and a tongue that sometimes seemed sharper than proper for her sex. She was direct where others would be coy, and overtly emotional where others would swallow their feelings. She wore no mask, leaving herself exposed and vulnerable to manipulation. Accompanying this, she had a baffling way of going about things…(such as that CPR stuff), was as stubborn as a dwarf, bespoke profanity quite frequently, and usually resisted any attempt he made in assisting her. Although, admittedly, the latter was probably a reaction to his own behavior as of late—how he openly regarded her as a threat.

Yet in the face of all her perceived shortcomings, he would not deny his growing distraction with the enigma of her presence. It was the reason he now abstained from looking at her, striving to distance himself. The recent spark of his awareness toward her brimming personality, and admittedly appealing features, was illuminating this. But he would leave that within the folds of his own mind.

She was, first and foremost, his traveling companion: someone he had to protect, even from himself. He had taken that duty seriously from the very beginning, even when espying her every inane activity. Which, at one point, included reprimanding the hobbits when they rudely barged in on the girl when she was half-dressed; to be honest, he had been rather surprised by the occurrence himself, never foreseeing that kind of situation to arise. Still, he held to duty, in spite of the unpredictability that entailed.

It was why he had kept a cautious eye on Boromir in his early exchanges with the girl: he hardly knew the man, and so had until very recently studied his every move. But upon hearing them speak in low tones while taking a respite in the mines of Moria, he realized Boromir more than likely saw her as a sister…an incarnate reminder (and not a replacement) for his own lady love back home.

They surmounted the last of the stairs, approaching a final stairway down which Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel now descended to meet them. Yes, he would take the time to re-acquaint himself with Rem. But first, he needed only a moment to dispel any lingering ideas that tempted him into the notion of becoming too…intimate…with her. Without the previous barrier of his original suspicions, it was almost disturbingly easy in how enticing she readily proved…

When she wasn't vulgarly lashing out at him, of course. Speaking with her further, learning of her and her capabilities would surely dispel whatever small infatuation he presently had in time…Such things had occurred with others before. He had been in love once, and whatever he now harbored for Rem in all of its infancy was surely of no comparison, and would no doubt dwindle in the wake of familiarity with her.

He shook himself from his thoughts, realizing he was once again gazing in Rem's direction. He looked away hastily, his focus alighting upon the Lord and Lady before him

Starlight seemed to weave through Galadriel's eyes, speaking more to them than did the words of her husband.

"The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone…

Nine there are here, but ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desired to speak with him…" Her voice was like water caressing stone, gently rippling over his questions like they were nothing.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land…he has fallen into shadow." Seeing the mournful look that was no doubt present within his own eyes, he gave voice to the confirmation no one else was yet able to give.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth." From the corner of his eye, he noted Rem had shifted uncomfortably. It would seem her feelings of responsibility in the matter had not yet waned after their talk. He ventured on, ignoring her distraction.

"…For we went needlessly into the net of Moria…"

"Needless were none of the deeds by Gandalf in life," she interrupted quietly, though strength was evident in her tone, "we do not yet know his whole purpose…" She paused, taking in the visage of the dwarf, whose bowed head drew her empathetic attention.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazadum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin." He ventured a look upward, struck by her lovely appearance and by the depth of her eyes.

"For the world had grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Her vast eyes fell to Boromir, who could not at first meet her eyes. When they did, they could not hold, and his pained expression watered into that of weeping.

Rem was hardly indecisive in her movement as she gently put a palm on his shoulder. Her hand smoothed up and down, trying to give him some comfort. He leaned in to her, not seeking an embrace but needing the soothing touch she offered. Boromir gathered himself back together hastily, causing Rem to give him a firm pat and to drop her hand back down.

It was then she realized that she was being regarded with a keen interest by Celeborn and Galadriel, and blanched; apprehension swimming over her features. But the Lady's warming expression in all of its peaceful neutrality eased her tension, and she met their eyes briefly before turning them thoughtfully down. Legolas was intrigued: he wondered at the small exchange, but Celeborn kept any further thoughts on the matter from manifesting.

"What now becomes of this fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost…"Rem's hands involuntarily tightened into fists, but broke them open once again with a quiet sigh nearly imperceptible to Legolas' hearing.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife." Galadriel's voice was formidable, and yet…the prince of Mirkwood could swear that she was nonetheless well aware of his current distraction. He did his best to school his features, patiently listening as best he could.

"Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." Boromir and Samwise fixed her with an unsure look, but the lord of Gondor ceased at her next words, "Yet hope remains while the company is true…" The smile could be heard in her voice as she continued, "Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace." Against her will, Rem's eyes strayed to Frodo, watching him as his eyes widened in reaction to the silent exchange he alone partook with the Lady of the Galadhrim. So enraptured with this, she was unaware that she was subject to another's scrutiny…

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Rem hummed quietly, at ease as she contentedly scrubbed herself. She had nearly cried out in delight upon being led, separately from that of the fellowship, to another room in the boughs of the mellyrn tree which housed a sizable tub. What was more, the water steamed slightly, testifying someone had boiled water and added it thoughtfully to give her the luxury of a hot bath. She'd nearly given the elf whom had enacted as her guide a hug at the tantalizing site of it.

As she had dropped her things and ventured to the tub in growing excitement, she barely registered her guide as she patiently informed her that her things were to be taken to the rest of her company and clean garments would be provided to her. With that, she was gone, leaving Rem to hastily shout out her gratitude before stripping in record time and slinking into the tub.

While privacy was more than likely absolute, the drafty open-ness of the room reminded her of the vulnerability she had experienced when bathing in Rivendell for the first time. The branches thickened and weaved about to aid in the structure of the walls and ceiling, making Rem feel—giddily—like a faerie princess. She dunked herself once more, blissfully shooting bubbles from her mouth before emerging. This was heaven…absolute…heaven…

Time passed slowly for Rem, to which she was pleasurably unaware as she bathed to her heart's content, mulling things over in her mind as the water cooled. Before her encounter with the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, she had been sure that the welcome solitude that would accompany a bath would have been less than pleasant for her in light of her immeasurable guilt. Still, when her eyes had alighted upon them, she had felt…a strange calm, the likes of which she had never prior known.

It was as though they were soothing her in the same way she had been attempting to Boromir. When she thought about it, it seemed her only skill in this place…comforting everyone in a round-about-way as best she could. _That's pretty pathetic._ She ignored her subconscious, turning other things over carefully in her mind as she lowered in the water.

While it was true Legolas' words had eased her initial guilt, and that she knew for a fact the wizard would once again reappear to their eyes, she hadn't felt this completely accepting of it all until now. _It's almost…like they KNOW something is in place…like it was meant to be…_She shrugged to herself. _At least, that's how they're taking it._ Whatever the extent of their knowledge, they certainly weren't sharing it with anyone else. That became clear to her as soon as the achingly beautiful lament, sung in elvish, began to thread through the night air.

She paused as the song grew in volume, caressing the sleeping world about her until goose-bumps prickled along her skin. _Okay, time to get out…_Sad her luxury had come to an end, she arose and reached for the provided towel. She dried herself, patting down her hair with the plush material. It was as she belted on a pale blue robe she had found lying on a chair, that she came to a rather unfortunate discovery.

_Ah…shit…_

She glanced toward the door, loathe to leave before she had the promised change of clothes. Still…_Desperate times call for desperate measures._

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Her lips brushed against his, teasingly. His eyes snapped into focus, taking in the visage before him. Legolas inhaled sharply, air rushing quickly as he awakened fully. She smiled teasingly; her lips wet from his own. Soft, sensual hands brushed his face, lingering against his cheek before smoothing into his hair. Hesitantly, he traced one of her palms with his nimble fingers, coaxing them to his own.

He kissed it delicately, gently suckling the soft skin. She uttered a small sound; a moan whittled into a hiccupping gasp as he kissed her wrist, her arm…licking hungrily at the inside bend of her sensitive elbow. Another feline mewl from her; she was utterly responsive, undulating against him in a way that made his own skin feel hot and tight.

Suddenly, she was grasping him; his hardened flesh burning in her hands through the obstructing material covering him. He gasped, thrown by her boldness. She took advantage of his distraction by stealing his lips once more between her own, invitingly stroking her tongue against his.

His own moan sounded in his ears as he responded in kind, thrusting against her in a grinding motion that bespoke his base need. Her breasts were pressed against him, tenderly molding against the firm planes of his chest. The smell of her: a vanilla musk, permeated his senses.

He nipped at the delicate curve of her throat as she gave him a squeeze, and it took a great deal of his steel resolve not to rip off the alluring corset; strip her from the flimsy robe silkily painting the curves of her form and plunge into her welcoming body in a tight sheath of physical bliss.

He sat up in a struggle for breath, a small sheen of sweat at his brow as the cool night air brought him back to consciousness. Heart racing, he tried swallow down the reality about him. It was a dream…the whole experience…He shifted uncomfortably, well aware that he was still aroused by the lingering, erotic memory of Rem which had turned out to be nothing more than stress brought about by fatigue or some deranged fancy.

His skin felt as hot and tight as it did while within the realm of his dream, and an anxious tension raced through his veins as he idled against the grass and great roots of a mellryn tree. Around him, his companions slumbered nearly dreamlessly—if their facial expressions were of any indication.

He stroked his brow in consternation, mildly alarmed by the primal nature of his dream…The valid echo of secret desires swimming at the back of his own mind, out of his waking control…he could almost taste her.

A sound interrupted his fractured thoughts, and he was on his guard as a figure gently moved like a shadow into their midst. However, once it tripped and cursed softly, he realized—with no small amount of frustration—that it was none other than Rem. She hastily came into camp, hitching up the skirt of her azure and crème dyed garment to keep from stumbling again.

With the way her eyes were frantically scanned the area, it became clear to him she had taken little notice of him and was no doubt searching for something. Against his will, his dark eyes traced over the delicious outline of her form…She was barely clothed in what was little more than a thin robe, and her succulent legs looked luminescent and curvaceous beneath the elvish lamps. He swallowed, berating himself silently as he stood and made his way toward her.

It became apparent as to what it was she was after as she gave a small hum of victory upon spotting her bag. She scuttled over to it, ravaging it to uncover something or other. He drew closer, but she was oblivious to his cautious approach.

" Fuck…." he winced;the last word he wanted to hear.

"Something wrong?" She looked up, startled. He fervently hoped it was not because she had detected its husky undertone…that was not his intent. He needed…distraction; conversation would do.

"No…just…I'm…nothing. Everything's fine. Peachy keen." She gave a fake, winning smile that instantly roused his immediate suspicion.

"Were you looking for something?..." What she took to be a distasteful look passed over his features, "half dressed, no less?" She rushed to explain, a stain rising in her cheeks, coloring down past her throat. Damn his consistent curiosity…just how far did that blush travel…?

"Look, I know it's not of particular propriety and all that, but this is important." Her hand snatched out of her pack, and she bustled away. Or at least, she would have had his voice not interrupted her escape.

"What is so important that it would have you indecently wandering about—" _Oh, kiss my ass you jerk-wad._ She fought to reign in her temper, time not exactly on her side in these circumstances.

"Indecent?" she shot back, arching a brow, "you're the one with his shirt hanging open. I, on the other hand," she plucked at her garment as a clear indication, "am sufficiently covered." He nearly colored at her observation, especially when her eyes lingered longer than they probably ought to. Her tone left him smoldering.

"Your state of dress leaves nothing to the imagination," he spat.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does having a vagina somehow mean I'm supposed to be more conservative than your gender or something?" She yelled, waking their companions in her heedless rage as it bubbled to the surface. His eyes were wide, quite speechless for a second.

"I—I can't believe you just said that!" His volume was increasing, too. It seemed their verbal spar now held a captive audience.

"What're they arguin' 'bout?" Pippin mumbled sleeply.

"Dunno, Pip," Merry answered, interest beginning to shade his tired voice. Rem looked a bit taken aback at the look on Legolas' face.

"What, you mean 'vagina'?" Eyes wide as saucers, Merry and Pippin sat up straight in order to hear where this was going. Even Boromir and Gimli looked on in something akin to awe…or it might have been horror. A fully awake Frodo and Sam seemed put out by the whole business.

"I don't believe…" Aragorn stepped in, "that I have ever heard a lady use that term while in mixed company." Rem rolled her eyes haughtily, annoyance sharp in her clearly exasperated features.

"What the fuck is wrong with the word 'vagina'?" She was seething, carrying on in her speech while the items she had taken from her bag peeked out from her clenched fist. "We're all adults here, for cryin' out loud! Am I supposed to call it a 'pocket book' or a 'wu-wu' instead? Next, you'll probably say I should refer to a penis as a 'lizard' or a 'weenie' or something…." Stark silence rang out before her, and she danced from foot to foot before stomping away to find some privacy, calling grumpily over her shoulder as she did so.

"Vagina is a perfectly good word! And so is penis!" Though she couldn't be sure since she was unwilling to check, she would still swear that she heard the dwarf and a few of the hobbits giggling as she crested the particularly large roots of one of the mellryn trees. She had more urgent matters to attend to, like properly arranging the linen protection from Rivendell in her drawers. Mother Nature, after all, had finally gotten around to bequeathing her its gift…But, better late than never…Not that she had to worry about becoming pregnant any time soon.

_What the hell is that elf's problem?!_ She seethed, feeling slightly more at ease once she had secured a secret-like space in a deep corner between some immense roots. They provided privacy in that they encircled so much like a grotto. Going about her business, she muttered her mutinous thoughts aloud as she recalled everyone's shocked reaction to her 'lewd' anatomical words.

"Now I know what to do next the time I'm confronted by orcs…I'll just yell 'penis' and 'vagina' and they'll all head for the hills." She sighed. _Bunch of sexist jerks…_

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A/N: Hope it upheld to your expectations! Please review!! Big hugs to all who are taking the time to read—and review—this fiction ^_^ I'm actually chagrined to admit that I don't know where to start in terms of replying to them all …Absolutely swear to reply to them by my next chapter!!!

Just know that you are all really making my day, and I'm deeply touched by the trouble you're taking ….Thank you all so much!!!! Please keep reviewing ^_^

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	11. Within

Disclaimer: Tolkien's respective works belong to him; I'm merely borrowing it for some free entertainment.

A/N: I should really be in bed instead of up late and stewing…but, oh well. Apologies in advance for the short length of the chapter; another one should be up before the week is over! Scout's honor! (Cub Scout's honor, since I was kicked out of Girl Scouts....)

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'Every time we set aside our pride

We take a step closer to the beast

Every time we kill an emotion

We take a step away from the beast'

~Tite Kubo

**7777777777**

The soft trickle of water permeated her senses; the chuckling sound dully throbbed in the air like birdsong from a nearby fountain. Flowers beyond compare in color and laden with exotic fragrances blossomed across the earth and cloistering cliffs.

Rem had the impression that this was a deep nook, not unlike a sharp valley carved into the root of a mountain. For reasons yet unknown, she was completely calm as she arose from the bench, dully noting that she wore a sheer dress that had a vague quality akin to starlight. It was soft and silky against her skin. It was barely discernable from the soft breeze tugging at her hair.

A gentle sound, not unlike someone clearing his throat, alerted Rem that she wasn't alone in this private garden. He looked young, no older than she. But for his youthful appearance, his eyes looked incredibly old. Caramel-kissed hair framed his visage, and the smile he offered made something inside Rem melt a little; which was confusing, since she wasn't typically drawn to people based significantly on their physical appearance. When he spoke, it occurred to her that maybe it was his otherworldly presence that somehow drew her in.

"Welcome child." She stared at him, the delicious feeling of being at ease blanketing her alarm at being in a strange place, with no idea as to how she got there.

"…"

He tilted his head, inclining it to indicate that she was free to speak. She found her voice, but it sounded hollow and empty to her own ears. Like her questions were insignificant, somehow…In light of….something…

"Where…Where are we?" He was standing closer to her than she normally would have liked in meeting someone for the first time. But for some reason or other, she found herself sinking back onto the stone bench which was inexplicably warm as though it had bathed for hours in sunlight.

"One of my gardens," he said mildly, as though it should be obvious. He reached out his hand, as though to brush the dark brown of her hair from her eyes, but seemed to change his mind at the last second. Instead, he sat beside her, keeping his eyes fixated on her. His raiment was similar hers, and the cloth shimmered at his graceful movement.

Disconcerted at his intimate behavior, she got up and strode toward a small, decadent gazebo bedecked by flowing plants.

"We found it easiest to address you within this realm, and outside the confines of your own." She paused, looking over her shoulder at him as her disconcerting thoughts shuffled through her hazy mind. _Who's 'we'? Who is this guy…?_

"What do you mean?" He remained where he was, watching her with some guarded interest. For an instant, her heart felt like it had hiccupped.

"My realm…you mean, you're the reason I'm in Middle Earth?..." His tone was soothing, cracking her misguided epiphany.

"Our hands were not involved in how you came to Arda, but we would guide you along the path your fate has now taken…" She narrowed her eyes in thought, her mind somehow thick as though stuffed with cotton.

"So…you're not the reason I'm here…" He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. She stroked her hand thoughtfully over the homely wood of the gazebo's railing, something penetrating her mind.

"Wait…you said Arda…so…I take it we're not in Middle Earth right now?" Again, he shook his head.

"I am Master of visions and dreams…and so I was elected to speak." A drugged sensation of understanding whispered through Rem at his words.

"Oh….so this is a dream…" She looked around, taking in the peaceful scene.

"I guess that makes sense…" She shrugged, "looks pretty normal compared to my usual ones…I mean, this one time I could have sworn I was living in this haunted Victorian house, so of course that meant that there were chinchillas in the walls, and the hallways were infested with chattering squirrels…and so I took these bananas…" she trailed off, seeing the man's bemused expression. She felt her face grow a little hot.

"Never mind…." She leapt into another question, hoping he would forget about her inane rambling. As she spoke, she felt like a veil was being lifted, or some mud through which she was wading was becoming diluted, allowing her to think a bit more clearly as she waded through her subconcious.

"You said elected…? What do you mean by that? Are you…" she waved her hand in an alluding indication, "all of you, incapable of appearing to me back in the real world—no, I mean, back on Arda or something…?"

"You assume this garden and Arda are not the 'real world' then?" A curve of a smile was starting at his lips, like he was amused. She gave him a flabbergasted look, aware he had again evaded her question pertaining to his supposed comrades.

"Look, not to burst your bubble or anything, but for me, this entire _experience_ has been a dream," a small grimace tinted her expression, "and in some contexts, a nightmare." His own expression sobered at her words as she continued, "What you call reality, and what I know as reality, are two completely different things—er, places."

"Oh?" He interjected smoothly, arising from the bench and dusting off his beautiful clothing. "You think so?" Rem gave him a slightly menacing glare, taking a few steps backward as he began to approach.

"I _know_ so." she spit out. Reality was home; her mother's burnt cooking and scalding herself on the rotisserie at the grocery store. Home was constantly studying and typing up papers for her classes; where her bed sheets smelled familiar and were comfortable to sleep in, and maybe this all wasn't that pleasant most of the time. But it was what she was familiar with, it was what she knew…had known. It was what she was starting to miss… He shrugged dismissingly, like a cat.

"Reality is to your own perception. What matters is the here and now, and the path that lies before you." He moved soundlessly, which unnerved Rem as she began mounting the gazebo steps backwards so as not to let him out of her sight.

"What path? What are you talking about?" Her mind no longer felt weighted down, and her thoughts were racing. He continued as though she had not interrupted.

"There lies a fork in your road, and while your appearance within Arda was unprecedented, already Vairë has woven you into not only this story, but in delivering the next…" her eyes widened. _'They'…The Valar?!!_

"…Lórien?!" Her voice cracked, and she found herself tripping on the gazebo steps. While the landing didn't hurt as much as it probably would were she awake, she couldn't help but be disappointed in herself that she had not only fallen for the umpteenth time, but she had fallen 'up' a flight of steps no less. He knelt before her, ignoring her sound of protest.

"Whether or not you yet choose to believe us, the destiny of your home— "

"Arda is _not_ my home!" She shot back, shaking. His speech continued, unabated. He seemed to have much to say, but did not have much time to say it.

"—depends entirely on your coming choice; you are the nine, by both name and fate. Things will happen, and only you have the power to change the course…" She started laughing. But it was a bitter laugh, full of pain and remorse at the remembered sight of Gandalf's troubled blue eyes.

"Enough with the rhyming crap! Look, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've _tried_ to change things. It doesn't work like that! I'm bearing witness to events that are from a bunch of stupid books, and I can't make one fucking bit of difference…" She looked up, meeting Lórien's steadfast gaze. He was shaking his head, slowly, and with great pity.

"You misunderstand…but we are running out of time; the grains in the hourglass have already begun to fall…" he extended his hand, offering it to her, "every flash of your throat as you breathe holds the possibility in and of itself for what you were meant to do as a nine." She shook her head, confused.

"Nine? What do you mean by that? You mean the fellowship…?" Without meaning to, she placed her hand in his, and he easily lifted her to her feet. He regarded her earnestly, compelling her to listen with his deepening eyes.

"It is your number, the aspects of your design—"

"…Rem…" She blinked, the gardens and the vision of Lórien swaying; twisting inside out at the intrusive sound of someone speaking her name.

"…Rem…" She shot upward, nearly cracking Legolas' jaw as she sat up really fast. He uttered something quickly in Elvish, probably an oath or two in his surprise. For a beat or two of silence, Rem wasn't sure where she was. She scratched her rumpled head, confused, and slightly nauseous at the knowledge she had been on the cusp of learning something of utmost importance—only for it to be extinguished.

"…What do you want…?" She groused. It came out harsher than she intended, but she wasn't about to take it back for a number of reasons; most of which encircled around why it was the elf was troubling himself to wake her up. Then there was the fact that he had left her frustratingly close to finding out the meaning of her dream…one not of her own making, at that. She kind of had the urge to punch him in the face. He fixed her with a dark look, and then rose to his feet with a surly expression marring his features.

His shirt was now properly clothing him; he was not, after all, in the habit of wandering about with it hanging open. He had loosened it the day before because he had felt rather warm, and desired to feel the cooler evening air breathing on his skin. Aside from that, the mortal's recognition of a double standard over his proposed complaint of 'decency' did have some merit. But he had been distracted, and in somehow itching to start a fight…had lost sight of reason. All for the sake of trying to relieve a quiet tension a restless dream and her appraising look had left him with.

"The others have already taken their evening meal. I thought you would want to take some sustenance as well." She blinked up at him, owlishly. She shoved a brown lock of hair out of her eyes, and noticed—once she took in his beautiful appearance—that it was feasible enough to be true, and even more so because of the silver ewer he carried.

"Oh…uh…thanks." She offered sheepishly, pushing herself to her unsteady feet. He made no move to help her, for once, secretly not trusting himself to touch her. Despite the rather troubled expression crossing over her warm, brown eyes, she looked well-rested and invitingly bedraggled from tossing and turning in sleep. Rigidly, masked by his preternatural grace of liquid movement, he moved away from her, taking it for granted that she would follow.

She did so, dusting off her russet skirts—tinted so deep that they appeared mahogany in the darkness—before scrambling after her obviously annoyed companion, her mind still tripping as sleep left her in its wake. She was hardly able to formulate a coherent sentence, as the feeling of trepidation broke her wandering thoughts into pieces. _What did Lórien…? Why do the Valar…need me? And what about the number nine?..._

What had he been getting at…? And…if they hadn't sent for her…what, or who, did…? As she received the plate of food Boromir had handed to her in passing, she sat down upon a tree root and finished quickly as she was able. Thoughts still spinning, she retrieved another Rivendell 'napkin' and took care of her feminine needs in private and wondered.

_What the hell is going on?_

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It was haunting, that melody. The beauty and sadness given throat to by the elves had returned, and Rem listened, allowing the distraction of it to muddle her own useless thoughts. She had more questions than answers, and the short circle her mind was reeling in was only beginning to give her a headache.

_A Olórin i yaresse… (Olórin who once was…)  
Mentaner i Numeherui (Sent by the Lords of the West)  
Tírien i Rómenóri… (To guard the Lands of the East…)_

The song, which had been naked save for one voice, became clothed by an accompanying chorus. Rem finished chewing, taking it in with a vague interest. This was different than the previous day's, and this lament sounded more profound and achingly sorrowful when sung in unison.

_Melme nóren sina (Our love for this land)  
núra ala (Is deeper than the deeps)  
Eäro… (Of the sea…)_

The song made the others pause as well, or at least quiet their previous activities. Aragorn continued to sharpen his sword, a neglected duty from yesterday. The fellowship had been so worn to the bone—both emotionally and physically—that they had, for the most part, gone straight to bed. Even after Rem and Legolas' spat, they had done little else than lay down their heads to rest. The grief of the past few days was wearing away, leaving everyone to feel shallow and empty as they somberly acknowledged the Gray Pilgrim's death.

The hobbits went about setting up their bedding. Little had been done that day, save for taking food and sleeping, and they were only now arranging it to their tastes since exhaustion no longer permeated their senses. Tonight, however, as the evening's enveloping embrace tucked them in once more, they would perhaps have the promise of a more restful respite.

"…A lament for Gandalf…" Legolas murmured pensively. He seemed keenly aware of the song, taking it in, like one would swallow water.

"What do they say about him?" Merry inquired, apprehension in his tone. Rem stared down at her gleaming plate, not wanting to see the saddened expression within those stormy eyes.

"I have not the heart to tell you…For me, the grief is still too near." She didn't notice that he looked at her as he finished speaking; oblivious to the concern, laced with something else.

…_Maiaron i Oiosaila, (Wisest of all Maiar,)  
Manan elye etevanne (What drove you to leave)  
Nórie i malanelye? (That which you loved?)_

_…Ilfirin nairelma (Yet we will cast all away)  
ullume nucuvalme. (Rather that submit.)  
Nauva i nauva... (What should be shall be...)_

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks," Samwise muttered, "There should be a verse about them." Nodding to himself, he stood up amidst the blankets and remnants of their bedding, taking in a breath to recite an impromptu verse of his own making.

"The finest rockets ever seen,

They burst in stars of blue and green…" An uproarious snore from the dwarf interrupted him, but he continued haltingly.

"Or after thunder…silver showers…"Gimli's breathe rent through the air once again, causing nearly everyone to turn in his direction. Aragorn turned in his annoyance and smacked him in the side meaningfully, startling him awake. Yet the moment was already over; whatever courage the hobbit had summoned seemed to have fled. Or, at least, his inspiration had waned.

"Came falling like a…rain of flowers…" he sat down again, dejectedly. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road." He noticed Rem smiling at him, albeit sadly.

"I thought that was very nice." He hesitated, but then nodded gratefully as he went back to setting up camp. Rem watched them for a time, realizing that somewhere along the past few days, she no longer had any bearing of where she now stood. She had been an oddity in the fellowship's midst at the beginning. And in some ways, some of the company had grown to trust her. Still, with Gandalf's death, it would seem any further bloom of their relationship with her would be put on hold.

As a seer, to any of those believing, she should have been able to prevent the wizard's demise. Or maybe she'd just alienated herself by bringing up the inappropriate discussion of male and female anatomy during her argument with the elf. There was no denying that they all seemed a little uncomfortable while in her presence. She sighed softly, ignoring the ranger as he moved past her and toward Boromir, who sat on the outskirts of their encampment.

Ever since entering the depths of the wood, the young lord of Gondor had grown pensive and ill-at-ease. He avoided their company, and for once Rem didn't feel the need to press in and comfort. She knew why he drew away, and decided that there was a greater wisdom in letting things play out for themselves…especially since there wasn't really a damn thing she could do otherwise. Besides, Aragorn would probably confine in him better than he would if faced with herself…it was crucial that they both reach some sort of understanding…for the darker days to come…

That was when she noticed a pair of elvish boots in her line of vision. Rem blinked, realizing that Legolas had approached, and was looking down at her expectantly. No, not expectantly…he looked…troubled, maybe?

"May I speak with you?" She looked up at him, stupefied.

"Uh…sure." Neither moved.

"I meant…privately."

"Ah." It struck home. Refusing to accept Legolas' proffered hand, she got up and walked after him. After a few minutes, he led them to the roots of the mellyrn tree the prince had resided in the day before while in repose. He leapt upon them lightly, and Rem gamely scrambled up after him. When they were comfortably seated, silence reigned once more. The elvish song was dying softly, and the words left a bitter residue in Rem's memory. _Well this is fun._

"So what did you want to talk about?" She asked impatiently.

"I owe you an apology." _Just one?_ She swallowed her thoughts before speaking.

"…What for?" The hint of a grimace played over his fair face.

"I have been unfair to you. I have done nothing but judge you from the very start. It was undeserving, and I crave your forgiveness."

"Pardon?" She was surprised, and let him know this by giving him an incredulous look.

Rem thought he'd only meant to say he was sorry for picking their fight yesterday evening, and was going to point out that she had been right…To say he was sorry for being suspicious of her was a bit backward in coming forward to her. _…Does this mean he really thinks I'm indecent?_ She brushed that away, accepting what was before her for what it was: a chance to start over with the elf. _Maybe he's not such a jerk after all…_

"It's all right…I guess…But, could you clarify something for me?" He hesitated briefly before nodding pensively.

"As you wish."

"So why were you suspicious of me…?" He shrugged affluently.

"It was your mode of dress, and the demeanor in which you carried yourself, I suppose." He paused, speaking carefully. "There was the rumor of your being a seer, and you yourself act oddly for a woman." She rolled her eyes at that statement, slouching.

"And you would be an expert on feminine behavior _because_?!...." He didn't reply. She sighed. Despite their striving to begin again, he certainly was still guarded with her on a few choice topics. She sighed.

"What will you do now?" Caught off guard by the question, she looked up at him. Seemed he was also apt to change the subject. He hastily amended the question, not wishing to upset her.

"Forgive me…I spoke out of turn…I was just…curious about what it is you plan—" Rem waved him off warily, slouching in a more boneless manner against the silvery roots. It was something she hadn't really given much thought to, truth be known…Though her future as of now really did deserve more thought.

"I'm not really sure…back home, I was attending a university." Upon catching the look on his face, she elaborated in detail. Apparently, schools weren't altogether common place.

"It's a sort of school….you know, with tutors and the like….I'm not sure what your terminology would be…"

"I understand." He interrupted. She nodded, then continued.

"Yeah…you see, back home, a lot of people attend them so they can have better job options, depending on what they study." She wasn't sure if he could really grasp what she was saying, but he did seem to be paying attention.

"So I haven't really much experience at an actual career…I mean, I've worked at a grocery store for a few months and can cook thanks to that…but—"

"What did you study?"

"Originally, I wanted to studying English—a popular language," she clarified, "so that I could be a writer."

"Why did you change your mind?" She sighed at the question, wishing she knew herself. It had been frustration, more than anything. For every paper she had written, her professors had pointed out their shortcomings. Every flaw within the text from her keyboard was made glaringly clear with their highlighters and red pens. What made her upset was that this was really only the case with her creative choice in subject. Should the paper be a reflection of an assigned book or opinion the professor himself had expressed, she had gotten rather good marks. It had been pretty infuriating…like riding a Ferris wheel that had merely looked fun and all she wanted was to get off.

"I guess I just sort of gave up…My professors didn't like my writing style: the way I saw things, and I was adamant that it not be changed. And I'll admit that I can sometimes be a little scatter-brained and imperfect with the grammar…still… rather than give in, I thought a change of career might be better suited for me. I guess I just figured I could write books in my spare time or something…And that was when I changed schools."

"Why was that necessary?" he seemed genuinely curious.

"The university—uh, school I was attending at the time didn't offer anything else that really appealed to me. So, when I found out about the program at another school…" He nodded, understandingly.

"It must have been hard for you." She smiled, but it was at something far away, and it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It wasn't too bad…but I did miss my friends. I had gone to high school—a previous educational establishment, with a bunch of them. And suddenly, I was alone with hardly anyone I knew…" She sat up, stretching tiredly.

"I had only been there a few months, when suddenly, I fell asleep on my desk one night and wound up here." He frowned. Apparently, the simplicity of how she had come here had no crossed his mind. In the former recesses of his mind, he had assumed she had partaken in some sort of ritual…or at least something a bit more complex than simply falling asleep. She laughed suddenly, drawing his attention.

"Sorry…I didn't really answer your question, huh? As far as what I'll be doing here…" She gesticulated with her hands warily, "I'm not a hundred percent here…I suppose most women around here are married off by my age, or at least are involved in some family trade or other." He bit his tongue to keep from smiling at the idea of her married—he honestly pitied the man who would be bound to this woman; she was a verbal shrew.

"That is generally the custom." She groaned softly, but the sound still found its way to his ears.

"Fantastic" Rem breathed sarcastically. She brushed her hair distractedly out of her eyes. She was silent for a moment, then calmly chirped out a sudden thought.

"Still…maybe…" That piqued his interest.

"Maybe what?" She shrugged half-heartedly.

"Nothing, really…just…this dream I had…" Much to his frustration, she didn't go into further details. _Maybe…there's a greater something I'm bound for…?Is there actually a reason I'm here…?_Legolas let out a sigh, startling Rem out of her thoughts.

"Dreams…may not be enough of a foundation to trust on their own." He offered quietly, thinking of his own latest experience. Just the thought of it was making him tense all over again…compliant to suggestion…

"Yeah, but it's all I've got right now…" She fixed him with a peculiar look, and for one dreadful moment the elf thought she realized the exact content of his own half-imagined thoughts from sleep.

"What do you know about the number nine?" He was taken off guard by the question, although in the recesses of his mind he was breathing a sigh of relief. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"What do you mean?.." Given the odd expression he was sporting, Rem suddenly doubted whether or not her companion would be of any help in aiding her to seek any meaning of it.

"eh…never mind." They were quiet once more, and the soft lull from the clearing in which rested their encampment testified in their comrades being sound asleep by now. Still, Rem didn't feel altogether tired just yet; she'd slept for most of the day prior to dinner, and it didn't look like Legolas was all that fatigued either.

"Hey…" He looked over at her.

"Was there ever a time…when you hated me?" he looked taken aback by the question.

"Why would you even consider that?" She canceled the urge to roll her eyes once again, deciding patience would probably get her further in this discussion…especially if she wanted an honest answer, which she so desperately craved.

"Well, you've always looked annoyed or angry when you were looking at me…well, apart from our first few days in Rivendell. But even then, you were pretty suspicious…" She trailed off as he looked away from her, and for a moment, she didn't think he wouldn't pursue an answer. But then he spoke.

"I am unaccustomed to being caught off guard…But your presence accomplished just that. I admit that as the days passed, I grew anxious over your motives…but I never disliked you…" his turbulent, stormy eyes met her own. "I hardly even know you," he ventured reluctantly.

_Would you even want to get to know me?..._

She stamped down on the urge to voice that question aloud. Talking to him civilly was odd enough. Not that she found this experience wholly unpleasant (quite the opposite in fact) it was just…somewhat surreal. Kind of like that dream she'd had. She was beginning to doubt that it had been anything prophetic: after all, why they heck would the Valar contact her of all people? Frodo was by far the most important one. The fate of Arda rested entirely upon the poor hobbit's shoulders. If anyone needed help in 'finding their path' as her subconscious in form of Lórien had so eloquently put it, Frodo certainly did.

The whole thing could have been dreamt up by the fact she had eaten a weird food. Lembas, after all, could have its fair share of side effects. One time, she had accidentally snorted iced tea out her nose, and had dreamt about marauding hamsters later that night. While the connection of the two might be a far stretch, Rem insisted on blaming the tea. Ingesting food—even if unconventionally—could lead to strange dreams by her conclusion.

Still, that didn't erase the fact that a small, tiny part of her had felt as though she were on the cusp of learning something infinitely important…and that same, small part of her still blamed the elf for waking her from discovering the revelation. She snorted thoughtfully, drawing Legolas' attention. He had watched a myriad number of expressions to cross her face—namely playing over the deep shadows of her deep brown eyes, until she seemed to settle on amusement.

"What humors you?" She jerked her head toward him, as though she'd forgotten he was even there. She smiled ruefully, flicking the side of her head pointedly.

"Oh…nothing…remembering a dream. It's" she made a face "…hard to explain. Kind of making me feel out of sorts, is all" She'd meant it as a form of apology. Rem hadn't really expected a reply.

"I myself have…" He snapped his mouth shut, as if something occurred to him. He hastily looked elsewhere, fearing he'd said too much. He hadn't meant for that to pass from his lips. Hopefully, she would overlook his slip-up and—

"You've had a weird dream, too?" She asked excitedly. He closed his eyes briefly, praying to the Valar for patience, before opening them once more.

"It was nothing…Forget I said anything." Rem didn't take the hint.

"Aw, come on!" She grinned wickedly, and he was horrified at how alluring she suddenly was with such a facial expression, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!" His visage darkened, and he arose abruptly, stalking down from the tree roots and to the grass below.

"Leave it, Rem." She struggled after him, baffled by his cold tone.

"Hey, wait up…Look, I wasn't trying to be offensive or anything!" He could hear the exasperation in her voice.

"I said leave it." Thoroughly irritated by this point, she shoved him from behind. Or at least, she tried to. At the last second, he maneuvered sideways, causing her to lurch forward and to the front of him. Her own momentum nearly made her fall, but her hand shot out and grasped his shirt to keep herself from completing the tumble. Not quite ready for such a movement, he nearly collided with her, and she crashed into his chest. After the stars receded, she glared up at him. He groped for her shoulders, trying not to look at her, striving to push her gently away so he might peaceably leave. But her next words stopped him. That, and her hands violently tangled into the fabric of his shirt, making him look at her.

"You said you hardly know me. What about you?!"

"Me?" He echoed. _Who the hell else do you see around here?!_

"Yes, you, Sherlock! Have you ever thought that maybe I'd like to know a little thing or two about you?! I don't know anything about you either—and we've been traveling together all this time. How about opening up once in a while..?" her voice softened as she continued speaking, and her eyes dropped to his hands. Her grip loosened, and soft hands trailed down until they gingerly grasped his own; tracing the contours and patterns of shadow she found on them.

"It's…give and take, Legolas…I'm tired of fighting all the time. I'm sick of being the outsider looking in. I know I don't really belong here…but…if I'm going to live here, I want to at least not feel alone…"

"It was about you." He blurted. She stiffened; obviously, she hadn't been expecting that. Large, doe-like eyes traveled up to his own penetrating gaze. He cursed himself for not thinking this through, for speaking out of turn. He had never meant for her to know.

"Oh…" she said lamely. Carefully, he untangled her hands from his own, and she limply complied.

"Yes… 'oh'…" He started to walk away, but then she spoke.

"What happened…In your dream?" He turned his head, burning azure eyes seeking her own.

"Do you really want to know?"

_Yes…no…maybe, so—_

"Goodnight!" It came out as more of a squawk than she would have liked, but at this point, she was beyond caring. She skittered past him, nearly tripping as she made a b-line back to camp. He stared after her, regret heavy in his limbs. And yet…all the same, he couldn't take it back. More than that: he didn't want to.

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A/N: I would just like to needlessly point out that the dream Rem described to one of the Valar is actually one I had about a month ago…What's more, before I woke up, I had been planning in my dream to trick my little vermin tenants into leaving by tempting them with bananas.

I think the ghost was a little old man…and it was autumn. The dead leaves kept scratching the glass of the window pane in my bedroom, their shadows patterning the wallpaper. Weird, huh?

ANYway….. 'Arda' is another name for 'Middle Earth'…just thought I'd point that out.

THANKS FOR REVIEWING!!!!!!!! Big hugs to all who were thoughtful enough to review!!!! I appreciate it!!!!

Ariadne: Lol Thank you. And yes, I think so. He's over a millennia old, after all. Thanks for reviewing!!

ALXandRA: I'm glad you like it! And while that perspective did cross my mind, I chose a different angle because I figured that in being over millennia old, he would have some experience in the relationship department. I plan on adding more details later that should clarify (well, to my guess, any way…this is a fan fiction after all ^_^) but I'll try to keep that at the forefront of my thoughts. Thanks for reviewing!

MaruiBuntaWorshipper: You're welcome ^_^ But you do have a point: I imagine much language wouldn't phase orcs…still, maybe they'd be impressed? Thanks again!!

Kaya Nah: I hope that's a good thing! Thank you!!

TheFightingTemerairePrettyness: Yes, I'll admit it—I'm crazy about his poetry (wish he'd publish a book of them or something…). I'm glad you found the entire chapter to be over all…entertaining ^_~ Thank you very much!

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TudeDeluxe: Thank you!! I'm flattered ^_^ Glad you think Rem is a refreshing change ::does the 'happy-she's-not-a-mary-sue-dance':: and that you like how Legolas interacts with her…I've been doing my best! Thanks and please keep reading!!

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leahann: Lol That makes me smile ^_^ I'm really glad you like it! I agree about the dress/corset…more of a jeans girl myself (I think that's why I enjoy picking on Rem) And as for Legolas….it's wishful thinking lol Thank you, and please keep reading and reviewing!!

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Mel: THANK YOU!!! Thrilled I had you laughing that hard ^_^ (Poor dogs, lol) I hope this story continues to be enjoyable for you!! Thanks again, and please continue to review!!

hollyhawk: Really? Thank you!!! (…Now let's convince my English professor, lol) But I'm glad you really like it, and hope you continue to read and review ^_^

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	12. Without

Disclaimer: Tolkien's lovely story belongs solely to him…I am in no way making a profit from this.

A/N: Please review!!!! Hope you forgive me for the ending of this chapter ^_^

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'Creak, creak tower of purgatory,

Piercing the world like light

Sway, sway, tower of spine

Will it be us or the sky that falls?'

~Tite Kubo

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The soft trickle of water permeated her senses; the chuckling sound dully throbbed in the air like birdsong from a nearby fountain. Flowers beyond compare in color and laden with exotic fragrances blossomed across the earth and cloistering cliffs.

Rem had the impression that this was a deep nook, not unlike a sharp valley carved into the root of a mountain. For reasons yet unknown, she was completely calm as she arose from the bench, dully noting that she wore a sheer dress that had a vague quality akin to starlight. It was soft and silky against her skin. It was barely discernible from the soft breeze tugging at her hair. Something familiar about this place pulled at her subconscious…a sort of deja vu

A gentle sound, not unlike someone clearing his throat, alerted Rem that she wasn't alone in this private garden. He looked young, with caramel-kissed hair framed his visage, and eyes that somehow resounded with cobwebs of age. The smile he offered made something inside Rem clench in memory…and that was when she realized that she was dreaming.

"Welcome child." She stared at him, the initial calm melting away from her nerves like butter across a frying pan in flame. Anxiety prickled in her chest, and she found herself back away as she began to slowly recall...

"You…" The young man with ancient eyes nodded pleasantly enough, but his expression was quickly fading into one far graver.

"Yes…Me." He approached her, palms open in a gesticulation of being one with no intent to harm. "The path before you it set. You must choose your road…"

Her brown eyes widened, her memory somehow becoming unfettered as he spoke. Her gut clenched, and she stumbled away.

"Y-you keep saying that…" He stopped walking forward, eyes studying her. She wanted to shiver under that intense gaze. A frustration roiled within the depth of it, however patient the rest of him was painted.

" …You still do not understand?"

"No, goddamn it, I don't!" She snapped, peeved. " You hardly explained anything last time! All I know is that something is going to happen and there's a number involved!" For a moment, she became starkly away that she may have made him angry. He shook his head, as though he tired of speaking to a small child with inane lack of understanding.

"Add up the letters of your name." Now she was really confused.

"Wha—?! You can't add letters to equal numbers! It doesn't work like that!!" Again, he shook his head, reaching out with his hand to embrace her own. She stiffened at the contact, feeling the intense warmth in his the strange touch.

"Add up the date of your birth, then." She fought through the tangled strands within the recesses of her mind, piecing together the numbers. Math had never been her strongest suite. She had always had more of a knack for history…Memorizing dates and such. _February first, 1986…okay…2 and 1 equal 3…plus 1986 makes 1989…_

"1989…?"

"Add those together as well." The wealth of patience seemed to be waning. Her mind spun together, weaving together the fabric of her conclusion.

"It's…9…But, what's that have to do with anything?" Were eyes ever to speak volumes, his certainly would have. Lórien squeezed her hand, albeit roughly.

"Everything."

Rem snapped open her eyes, sheets tangled about her constricted limbs. Taking in her surroundings, she realized that her hand had come into contact with the surprisingly coarse stone of the statue she had chosen to camp near. Age and the seasons had weathered it, and she had chosen to sleep against it because of the odd comfort it offered in being a sort of beautiful sentry watching over her.

Restlessly, she sat up, well aware that she really ought not to bother going back to sleep. Her mind was racing, twisting her stomach into complicated knots that wouldn't allow rest to come. The initial impression of her having dreamed of Lórien as a sort of coincidence was flooding away. In a rush of clarity she was beginning to think that maybe…just maybe, the Valar really had something to say. And that frightened her.

She got up, wandering over the grass and through the camp. She barely noticed Frodo was missing, presumably with Galadriel. It didn't really matter. What mattered, to her, at the moment (however self-absorbed it would seem) was the fact something beyond her control was once again occurring in her life.

Well, as she mulled over the sketchy details, this time the change was more subtle. It was like a dampness over usually dry earth…seeping slowly in, promising something unwanted would soon grow with time. The first changes in her life had been more abrupt and immediate…now, however. She winced as a twig cracked under her foot. While it hadn't hurt, the noise it presented echoed with the threat of waking her comrades.

_God…why now?! Why me? Is there really some fucking purpose in my being here? But… Lórien admitted that first time that they weren't the ones who brought me here. Still…why now...Why bring this up now; it's been months since I've been brought here…_She snorted at the thought, carefully seating herself down at the base of some mellyrn roots just outside of camp.

She needed to think. Sleep was becoming a waking memory. She wanted to pull at the roots of her hair, tears threatening to breed within her eyes. _I just don't understand…What does nine have to do with anything…? And I know I wanted to help, but I—what can I do? And what 'path' was he referring to…? _

"…I'm so confused." She whispered it quietly, the cotton-mouthed utterance becoming swallowed by the darkness as she uselessly pondered things in the minutes that stretched into hours.

"You really ought to be asleep." She gave a bad start at the sudden voice, but calmed slightly once she realized it only been the elf. He had approached without her notice—no big surprise there. He was tilting his head, as if contemplating something.

"You're up pretty late yourself." She commented blandly. He didn't answer. Instead, the silence between them stretched on as he carelessly looked on. Rem shifted uncomfortably, wishing he would leave. She felt awkward around him…or rather, more than usual, to say the least. He'd admitted to having dreamed about her, which was odd in and of itself in a confession.

But then, he hadn't relinquished what it was it had been about…so maybe she was making a mountain out of a molehill here…? Yeah, it probably hadn't been as intimate as she was making it out to be. He probably dreamt about a wide array of things…Who was she to talk?

She cleared her throat unnecessarily, trying to think of what to say. She felt so confused and raw from the mounting stress eating away at her nerves: this was the second time she had been so near whatever truth Lórien had hinted at. The darkness was seeping away, to be replaced with a pale yellow dawn as the minutes ticked by.

"You couldn't sleep?" She shook her head no, mildly relieved that he had been the one to restart conversation. He looked positively lovely in the soft light that blossomed around them—which was strange to say, yet impossible not to notice when taking in his elvin appearance.

"The dream I had…it was—" _should I really admit that I think it's from the Valar?_ Mentally, she shook her head. _Like that's believable…he'd probably only laugh at me…Or patronize me._ "…I mean, it keeps occurring. I can't really get my head around it." He seemed to contemplate her words before speaking.

"What was it about?" _Fuck if I'll tell YOU._

"Tell me about yours first." She shot back, comfortable that he wouldn't dare broach the subject. He tensed noticeably, but forged ahead—his voice rather tight.

"It was nothing of interest."

"I'll be the judge of that." She felt considerably better, now that he was on the receiving end of an interrogation. Churlish as it was to own up to it, she nearly felt gleeful for turning the tables on her companion. He glared at her, obviously a bit upset.

"All you need concern yourself with, is that it brought to surface things I would rather not…discuss." He had meant to say 'feel,' but brashly changed his wording in that he did not wish to reveal anything so…intimate. No good would come from going over every detail for her to hear, and he was adamant that he would keep it to himself. Whatever emotions or physical temptation she provoked, it was out of the question; it would fade in time. He would be no one other than her companion, until their ways parted. Any way, she was not his type.

"You don't have to be so defensive about it." She muttered quietly, arising and intent on stalking off. His next words stopped her.

"Then I apologize." She turned, shock evident in her expression. He studied her nonverbal response, curiosity once again tingeing his coming words.

"…Do you think I am incapable of such a thing? I did so yesterday…" She shook her head, cutting him off.

"That's not it…It's just…" She quirked a smile, "you're really stubborn…to have you illicit something like that within twenty-four hours…I don't know. I'm half expecting hell to freeze over by now."_ That and you have more mood swings than a pregnant woman._ He smiled slightly, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. He wasn't sure what her expression meant, but it was obviously meant as a jest.

"And you yourself are passive?" Her eyes sharpened, and she dropped her gaze for a second.

"Yeah…okay. Point taken." She looked up once more.

"I guess….that's why we argue so much. That, and your spying on me gets on my nerves."

"I do not—" She waved her hand, pleading her case.

"Okay, I know. I get it. You don't do that any more…still. You have to admit that you gave me a hard time for a while." He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"But that is within the past." She sighed, kicking at a stone.

"Yeah…water under the bridge and all that." Her brown eyes alighted upon his own, curiosity now in her expression.

"Speaking of the past…we spoke about…I mean, yesterday, when we..." She huffed, starting again, trying to piece together a feasible sentence. "After we were talking the other day…I realized that I still don't know anything about you." Whatever surprise he felt at the invitation, he quickly masked it well.

"What is it that you would want to know?" Despite their sudden change of subject, he could not help but feel somewhat wary of what it was she might inquire. He felt the need to keep his defenses up, should he left slip something less than appropriate.

"Well…for starters…" she seated herself on the grass, "when Thorin and company went through Mirkwood…where were you? I only recall reading about Thranduil…" He was taken aback, not bothering to hide his surprise this time in that he was clearly bemused why she would want to know such a frivolous detail; especially as this had happened well over a typical mortal's age ago.

"…I was not in the vicinity." She rolled her eyes at the vague response.

"Well, obviously. But where were you?" He saw no harm in forging onward, so he continued to speak.

"I was on an errand for my father; goblins in the mountains had grown stronger of late in number, and it was rudimentary habit for him to send some of us to scout the places bordering our lands." She gave him a puzzled look.

"But what about the giant spiders encroaching on your own land? Surely they would be a bigger threat than goblins…given that they're right there and everything…" He found it disconcertingly odd in how much she seemed to know of his home without ever having setting foot there. It was…intriguing.

"There is little they can do to our people, and aside from an organized hunt they are difficult to catch. My father sees it best to merely ward them from our halls. And in any case, they can be a dissuasive factor for unwelcome travelers in entering our realm." He found himself reclining on the grass as well.

"Huh…I guess that makes sense…" Rem pondered. _If you can't beat 'em, use 'em…_

"But…why would he send his own son?" He gave her a look that clearly suggested she was an idiot.

"I may one day lead our people. Why would I refuse to aid them in however I can? No less as a companion and a leader?" he paused, then continued. "Those who give orders, must be able to follow them as well."

"Ah. Right. Sorry." Then, as if to mock whatever companionable progress they were making, Mother Nature reminded Rem of something important she had to attend to. She groaned inwardly. _But we're not even arguing for once!_ Sighing, she sat up, brushing the grass from her skirts and answering the unspoken question in Legolas' face.

"Uh…Sorry…But I have to go to the…Little Girl's Bush….I'll see you later." Feeling stupid for conjuring up such a dumb euphemism, she booked it back to camp. The elf stared after her, ill-content to allow such an civil conversation wane so abruptly. Still, perhaps it was a sign of their progress in making an effort to get along…He arose, and followed after her toward camp.

He found her scanning through her bag, intent on her quest for more monthly 'supplies' before locating a handy urn and a cloth. He watched her quick movements, which she ignored as best she could. Getting everything she needed, she dashed out of camp again, reflecting on how the elf was acting. They had actually been having a pleasant exchange, for once….even if it hadn't started out that way. He had been more upset and—for some strange reason—uncomfortable in her broaching the subject of his dream than she could have otherwise guessed.

Still, it wasn't really her problem, and it didn't look like he would be bothering her about her own any time soon—which had been the main objective at the time. Yet…admittedly, as she strode off in search of some privacy to clean herself up, she wondered what it was he had dreamed that would make him treat the matter so…privately. Oh, sure. She had a hypothesis…but seriously doubted it had any bearing in the reality of things. The only pervert in these parts, she was certain, was her.

Finding the perfect place, she set about washing her thighs with the chilly water of the urn soaked through the rag she had brought along. Taking care that she was clean and dry from the protection she had grabbed from her bag, she headed back to camp.

Everyone was rather quiet this morning. It appeared that everyone had been refreshed by their respite, and emotions were less turbulent than they had been for the past few days. Now, a new found sense of determination could be tasted within the air. Humming quietly to herself, Rem set about repacking her things as well, rocking back on her heels as she crouched down to tie up her bag. Feeling someone's eyes upon her, she looked up.

And promptly fell on her ass. She sputtered, annoyed the elf could do that to her…throw her off guard so easily.

"What?!" He shrugged. He was half a meter away from her, crouching down at her side. Legolas had been so intimately close, those deep stormy eyes of his had looked as though they had wanted to—

"Something you want to say?" It came out a bit more scathing than was probably necessary. He spoke, ignoring the question to answer in his own way.

"While you were…visiting the bush, as you put it…a messenger passed through. He said Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel would speak with us before our departure." She immediately felt like a bitch for snapping at him. _Still…has he never heard of 'personal space'?!...and…was he patronizing me? _Shoving that aside, she nodded, going back to packing in an attempt to regain a shred of dignity.

"Okay…thanks for the heads up…"

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Water sloshed merrily beneath and around the oars as they churned through the river. The rushing sound of it was a nice background sound to Rem as the current urged them forward. She dipped her hand over the side, relishing the icy cool spray of it against her fingers.

"Careful lassie, ye don't want to be fallin' in." She turned slightly, smiling over at Gimli. He had gone back to worrying about her like some motherly hen now that his grief had been tucked further within; it would seem that he was beginning to heal. The rest of their companions were beginning to come around as well. Whatever was beneath the leaves of Lothlórien, it had done everyone good some good.

The wariness of her companions harbored toward her had notably waned, and the only true continual animosity she could expect would be from Legolas; however, that too was on the mend. They'd conversed twice with hardly any argument…he'd been apologetic both times…And maybe it was just the exhilaration of riding along in a boat in the late afternoon, but things had a pleasant outlook. That, and the promise of someone's life now rested within a small glass vial inside her pocket. How could she not feel hopeful?

When they had attended the shores of the river at the border of the woods, Celeborn and his attendants had presented them with practical cloaks that reminded Rem of a sea green echoed throughout the shadow of every leaf. Celeborn offhandedly mentioned that it was uncustomary for them to offer such garb for folk outside of their wood, and Rem was grateful for the change of such tradition.

Galadriel then began handing out various gifts: tools that would aid them as they sought to complete their quest. When she gave Legolas his bow, Rem had to smother the smile she felt on her lips at the child-like wonder that had brightened in his eyes as his fingers familiarized themselves with the beauteous weapon; like Eros with a new toy.

Boromir received a golden belt, the hobbits were given daggers, save for Sam—who received woven elvish rope. When it was her turn, who was second to last next to Gimli, there was a notable pause in Galdriel's step. She reached for Rem's hand, lightly tracing the contour of her palm as she smiled at her like a mother or a jewel of a sister.

"I pray that you will not need this medicine…but for the journey ahead of you, I fear that you may." After that hesitation, the small glass vial in question found its way into her palm, and she felt a thrill of excitement at what it presented. _Maybe…I can use this to save Boromir!_ She pocketed the gift, thanking the Lady of the wood profusely. And then it came to Gimli's turn…

Rem smiled at the memory, recalling Legolas' earlier question for the dwarf as they had set off at mid morning from the wood; breaking Gimli's reminisce over the whole encounter.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Haugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was it?" Rem smiled glancing back at the elf as Gimli, who sat before her at the bow, replied.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head," she could picture the misty look in the dwarf's eyes as she watched Legolas' stormy blue soften, "She gave me three."

Legolas smiled. Rem turned back around, thinking the elf hadn't noticed. But he had.

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The day passed slowly, stretching on until the sun relinquished it's light to the unyielding darkness. Clouds obscured the stars, save for a few small glittering freckles. Rem looked up at them longingly, wishing she could stretch out her hand and…

They were arguing again.

She bristled at the sound. She felt her face grow hot, her stomach churning in worry. She couldn't hear all they had to say, but by their sharp tones Aragorn and Boromir were in earnest discussion; one that was fast spinning into an argument. She felt anxious…useless. Because in truth, there was really nothing she could do.

Upon coming to shore, she had tried to strike up conversation with the lord of Gondor. He had been quiet and rather downcast for some time now. For how long exactly, she wasn't quite sure. But it had probably begun as soon as they trod on the soil of Lothlórien…since Galadriel had looked into his eyes.

But the smile he had given her for the effort had been insincere, and his answers to the idle questions she posed were half-hearted. It was almost as if his mind were some place else. It probably was. Whether his home, or even Aldisra…he was tense and pensive. Like he was being wound up tight, and some time soon it would all splinter apart. Unfortunately, she knew exactly when that would be.

She sat apart from the others, furthest from the fire. Sam and Frodo were speaking softly now too, the latter more glumly than his companion. She shifted her gaze awkwardly, looking back up at the deepening sky.

"You really ought to rest, Rem." Startled, she looked at Legolas as he approached and sat down beside her. She had thought he'd retired for the night. Gimli had one or two hours ago. His gentle snores testified as to whether or not he was faking. Merry and Pippin were laying down, too. But Rem had a sneaking suspicion that they weren't quite in the realm of sleep as of yet.

"Not really tired." She admitted, her eyes falling to the roasting fire. She peeked over at him through the veil of her tumbling brown hair, and was chagrined to discover that he had noticed.

"What about you…? You've been rowing nearly all day…" He shook his head, causing Rem to accept defeat and look over at him.

"I can endure…" She nodded slowly, taking it for granted that it probably wasn't a macho act. Elves were, by her observance, superhuman in many respects.

"There are so many stars…"

"That there are, lassie." Startled, she glanced back at Gimli. _Huh…I thought those snores were too quiet to be his own…I guess Merry and Pippin really are asleep._ The dwarf nonchalantly sat down at her left, leaving Rem to feel a bit like the cream filling of an oreo cookie. She looked back up at the sky, noting that the clouds were now scuttling away to reveal more of the studded curtain.

"Do you know any constellations…?" She asked.

"That I do." Legolas' soft voice seemed almost velveteen in her ear.

"Only a few." Gimli admitted. Puzzled, she looked at him. He shrugged his broad shoulders tiredly. "Never had much of a reason to look up, lassie." She didn't have to turn in order to know that Legolas had an amused smile on his lips; she herself had to bite her tongue in order to keep from grinning. _If I had heels, you'd get a crick in your neck._ It looked like a change in subject was in order.

"It's strange…they're so familiar…and yet they're alien, too," she felt Legolas' eyes on her as she spoke, "I mean…I remember a few constellations from home. But…they're not here." It was true. She could always point out Orion, and after a time the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. But there were no discernable patterns here to which she could relate. She smiled a little sadly, glancing at either of her companions.

"My mother showed them to me….or rather," she pulled a wry grin, "she handed me a field guide and said 'go at it'." She shrugged at the elf's indiscernible expression. "Hey…she was busy at the time. You try entertaining a rambunctious thirteen year old on a camping trip." His lips quirked slightly.

"I would rather not try it." A comfortable quiet descended. The gurgling rush of the endless river continued.

"You must miss her." She stiffened as the elf spoke once more, but relaxed and nodded.

"Every day." He was quiet once more, and Gimli patted her shoulder gently. She gave him a soft smile at the gesture, and he blusteringly let his hand drop.

"My mother taught me of the stars as well….although, more directly." She and Gimli both chuckled. Rem was secretly surprised he was even speaking of her: not even the books had mentioned her presence to any great degree.

"And what did she tell ye?" Legolas contemplated the dwarf's question before speaking.

"Everything." _That's got to be a shit-load._ Rem mused. For elves, imparting knowledge from one generation to another must certainly be something. After all, there were centuries of information in store from one to the next.

"If you don't mind me asking…what happened to her?" He took his time in answering.

"She left…for the undying lands." Unsure how sensitive a subject it might be, she ventured forward with caution.

"How old were you…?"

"five hundred and sixty two." She blinked, staring at him with a look that clearly indicated she thought he might actually be older than dirt.

"Seriously?" She snapped her trap shut, realizing a little too late how rude and insensitive that had probably sounded.

"No." Surprisingly, he laughed. "I don't remember how old I was…but it was long ago. And it was well past her desire to leave these shores." The gurgling river continued to swirl past and add to the absent sound of their voices.

"How old were you…when he left?" Her face must have blanched, since Legolas' words foraged ahead quickly for fear of upsetting her. "Gimli mentioned your father left…when you were quite young…" Given that he was floundering, the dwarf tried to step in and save the conversation.

"It came up, once, lassie…he was only curious as to why—"

"But I don't know why," her voice had gone flat, "I never did. He just up and left one day…when I was fourteen." Legolas strove to soothe her, unknowingly choosing the wrong words.

"Surly there was a reason…perhaps he was protecting you—"

"Protecting me from what?!" She snapped, her voice growing increasingly brittle. "He just up and left one day for no good fucking reason. Even my mom doesn't know why! If there was anything to protect me from, it should have been from himself!" She got up shakily, striding away from her companions and toward the fire where her stuff still lay.

"I'm going to bed!" She snapped scathingly. Complete and utter silence lingered thick within the air.

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"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Rem looked up at the sound of Aragorn's voice. She had seated herself beside Pippin, taking in the sunlight as they munched on some Lembas bread. She had been left to her own devices, and took advantage of it by taking it easy. While annoyed with Legolas and Gimli, she felt more betrayed than anything else. She had thought, of all people, Gimli would have kept her paternal situation a secret.

The morning had started awkwardly; arising at dawn, they had loaded themselves into the boats once more. This time, it had been uncomfortable and rather strained. Gimli had acted as though he were stepping on eggshells, never speaking for fear of upsetting her further. And Legolas…he acted as indifferent as possible; looking straight past her as though through a pane of glass. After how well they had all got along last night, this new arrangement rather hurt. But she wasn't about to say anything…

Even when the river diverged and they approached the mighty stone kin of Aragorn, they traveled along the rushing river in silence. Rem had felt her eyes grow impossibly large at the sight: they were majestic, making her feel like an ant they could crush with their sandaled feet. The masons who had sculpted these had truly been great artists.

"Oh, yes?!" Rem and Pippin looked over at the dwarf. It was nearly a relief to hear him speak. It would seem he felt comfortable enough to complain, "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better." Pippin stopped chewing, his gray eyes growing big in alarm at that last sentiment.

"Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!..." He glorified in detail, an expression of distaste on his face.

"That is our road." Aragorn replied tolerantly, "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Gimli sputtered, insulted at the insinuation of being soft.

"Recover my…?! Phrrrrr…" Rem would have smiled, but she kept her amusement to herself. She got up, dusting off her hands, before looking over toward the woods. Legolas' gentle voice permeated the air behind her as he directed his words at Aragorn.

"We should leave now."

"No." he answered back, "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness." Rem picked up her quiver and bow, quietly packing them over her shoulder as she eyed the woods. No one seemed to notice.

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can feel it!" The menace in his tone worried Rem, but she pushed it aside, fingering the small glass vial in her pocket. She knew what was to come…she couldn't chicken out now. Taking a deep breathe, she quietly wandered into the woods. Behind her, she heard the clatter of firewood as Merry offhandedly pronounced.

"Where's Frodo?"

She had to find Boromir.

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Rem reviewed the steps of her plan in her head, stalking determinedly into the woods. _Step one: find Boromir's whereabouts. Step two: hide in a bush…or something…nearby. Step three: Wait until battle is over. Step four: give him the medicine._ She nodded to herself, well aware that at the back of her mind, she knew she was probably over simplifying things. It probably wouldn't be all that easy. Still, she was crossing her fingers.

The sudden crunch of dead leaves and loam behind her gave her pause. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She then became aware of how…silent…these woods really were. Like they had seen evil, once…and the poison of its presence had never really left; like it had left an impregnable imprint, somewhere.

Another crackle of dead twigs and loam! Her heart leap in her throat; was it right behind her? She scuttled faster, breaking into a run. It followed suit, and only the sound of her heart beat drowned out the sound of it thundering behind her. Something grasped her hand, wrenching her arm so that she would have to spin around and look at it. She gasped, the inhale bred from shock the only thing that kept her from shrieking aloud.

"Peace, Rem! It's only me!" Her frightened eyes met those of the ranger, and she felt whatever adrenaline rush immediately drain from her system. She positively sagged in relief. _Guess I'm not as brave as I thought…_She thought glumly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm…um…What are you doing?" _Real smooth, Rem._

"Frodo is missing…." She nodded.

"And so is Boromir." He was quiet, as though contemplating the extent of her words. His eyes searched her own.

"You know then?" She nodded, haltingly.

"I'm aware." He released her hand, which until then she hadn't noticed he had still been holding. Apparently, he was more anxious then he let on. She bit her lip, making up her mind.

"You—you need to find Frodo." He stared at her, "Trust me."

"Go back to camp." With that, he was off. He glanced behind his shoulder, watching her as she pretended to head back. Yet as soon as he rushed out of sight, she spun around and frantically began her search with a renewed vigor borne of rising desperation. Minutes stretched past, and as time leaked by, she began to panic. Where was he? How far had they wandered from camp anyway? That was when she first became aware of the clash of steel ringing out into the stillness.

_Oh, shit!_

She ran, as fast as she could. As the sounds escalated into a dull, throbbing roar of battle, she veered downhill, to where she thought Boromir might be fighting. _Damn it!! Where the fuck is he?!_ Soon as she found him, she was going to kill him. The vegetation to her right exploded, uruk-hai trampling through the skeletal brush. Emitting an involuntary shriek, she stampeded away. They bellowed hoarsely, spittle frothing from their disgusting lips as they sought after her hurried steps. Sam's voice rang out somewhere beyond her, reminding her that she wasn't alone nor the only one in trouble.

"Mr. Frodo!!!" A voice, more gnarled then decaying roots from a rotting tree, echoed from the masses of uruk-hai.

"Find the Halfling! Yaggh! Find the Halfling…" his next words brought a chill to her blood. "Capture the woman alive!" She sprinted, skidding slightly as she half tripped, half slid into home behind a tree and into some whippy bushes. Pippin nearly yelped as she slammed into him and Merry; the latter clapped his hand over his cousin's mouth. Uruk-hai rocketed past; Merry put a finger to his lips to indicate she ought to be quiet as he removed his hand from Pippin's mouth.

That was when she noticed Frodo, not three meters away, hunched determinedly against the rough trunk of a tree.

"What's he doin?" Pippin hissed frantically. Merry's eyes were dark, realization striking him as to what it was his cousin was doing.

"…He's leaving."

"No!" Pippin shot up, making to rush toward his kinsman.

"Pippin!" Rem grappled with his cape, trying to stop him and keep him from being noticed. But it was too late. Uruk-hai were making their way toward their rabble, and Rem cursed.

"Oh, fuck!" She grabbed Merry, hardly allowing them a glance backward as she murmured loud enough for what she hoped Frodo could hear.

"Run, Frodo!"

"Go!" Merry snapped. Of his own volition, Pippin then began to wave his arms, wriggling free from Rem's grip in order to capture their enemy's attention. Merry then followed suite. For a split second, she kind of wanted to smack them, but they didn't have time for that. She urged them forward, encouraging them to run, half-heartedly flipping off the mutant orcs in order to gain their attention...Not that it was really necessary.

"Hey you! Over here!"

"Hey!"

"Over here!"

"This way!" She was barely aware of the rupturing foliage behind them, and she hoped like hell Frodo had taken the distraction as the opportunity that it was and had escaped toward camp, back to the boats.

"It's working!" Pippin shrieked, albeit wonderingly.

"I know it's working!" Merry bit back, "Run!"

"Did you somehow think it wouldn't?!" Rem snapped. "Move it!"

Pain suddenly exploded in Rem's world, thrashing inside her skull. She stumbled, nearly slamming into the hobbits. They halted, looking toward her worriedly, panic evident in their frantic voices. Dimly, she was aware of the fast approaching uruk-hai as they made to close in. _One of those mother-fuckers…_She eyed a sharp rock, suspiciously crimson liquid drops over part of its surface, and felt something damp at the back of her head. _…has really good aim._

"No! She gesticulated with her hands, motioning them to leave, " Leave! Get out of here!! Find…find Boromir!" She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt, clumsily dropping her bow in the haze of pain as she sought the glass vial to give to them. She'd lost her quiver of arrows, spilled out over the churned earth. "Run!" She screamed.

Black, rough hands were upon her, and she squirmed like a wild cat with its fur caught aflame. _No! This can't be happening…this can't. _Pippin and Merry's voices sounded, but it was as if they were from far away. Someone's fist slammed into her skull once again, and she knew no more.

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Legolas shot off another arrow, determination glittering fiercely within his azure eyes. Gimli's roaring battle cry accompanied the sickening thwack of his axes against uruk-hai flesh. They continued onward, toward where Aragorn had disappeared to as the horn of Gondor resounded. Boromir was in trouble, and Rem….

He strove not to think about it. She attracted trouble. That much was true. But Surely there had been a way in which she had not been stupid enough to think she was skilled enough to battle these vicious creatures. If she had any sense, she was hiding somewhere. Yes, she would be fine…he had to believe that…She was fine. She wasn't that stupid.

As the aching seconds trickled past, they broke through the ranks of the otherwise already fleeing uruk-hai, stopping for nothing. Legolas' clear eyes took in the scene of destruction about them, scanning frantically for one glimpse of Rem. Silence. That was a bad sign. Until recently, the crash of battle had enveloped the otherwise silent wood. But now…this was wrong. Something was wrong. That was when he saw it.

Aragorn knelt, battle-worn and bloodied, beneath a tree…Boromir's broken body, barely clinging to the embers of life. A shadow crossed his heart, and he felt true pity well up within him upon seeing the end of a once great man. The ranger arose, and it was clear that the lord of Gondor had passed.

"Merry and Pippin…have been taken." His voice was like coarse silk, rough from the tears as they glittered from his face.

"And Rem?" Gimli snapped gruffly, "What of Rem."

"And Frodo…Samwise." Legolas felt rather than heard how hollow his tone of voice sounded. Aragorn bowed his head.

"….We must put Boromir to rest. Set him to the river's course, in one of the Ghaladrim's boats." His deep eyes were shadowed, and he approached the elf, resting his hand on the prince's shoulder, "Frodo and Sam…were not captured. But…" He didn't need to say it. Legolas felt something cold pierce his chest. No…this…it couldn't be. He shook off Aragorn's hand; he wouldn't accept this. He...he had only seen her not an hour ago. The dumb girl had been fine; emotionally barbed, and upset with himself and the dwarf…but…This was ridiculous. She should have hid herself in the damned underbrush until the fight had waned.

"Are ye sure?" The dwarf sounded disbelieving as well. The ranger nodded.

"We will find them." He assured them both. Legolas' elvin eyes looked back toward Boromir's blood-slicked corpse, a resolve settling dangerously in his mind.

"And when we do," Legolas said grimly, "we will kill them."

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A/N: Thank you for your fabulous reviews!!!!! You are all so wonderful!!!! I'll reply to them individually next chapter—since I'm sure you'd rather I post this today rather than wait 'till Monday. Hugs to everyone!!!!!!!!


	13. Fallen

Disclaimer: Lord of The Rings and all of its respective inspiration belongs (more or less) to Tolkien and company….No profit is or ever will be made in light that nothing (except Rem Eltrin) belongs to me.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I just realized that I honestly have no idea how many chapters I intend to make this… 0_o Uh-oh…

Also, a nice soundtrack for the end of this chapter (trust me, you'll recognize where exactly) is the song entitled 'Time Of Dying' by Three Days Grace.

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'Red like blood

White like bone

Red like solitude

White like silence

Red like the senses of a beast

White like the heart of a god

Red like molten hatred

White like chilling cries of pain

Red like the shadows that feed on the night

Like a sigh piercing the moon

It shines white and scatters red'

~Tite Kubo

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Shadows moved in the dark. Icy fingers of fear plucked at her throat, constricting her windpipe as she choked down a swallow. Someone was here…someone was watching…Waiting…Dark eyes stared, so black with conviction that blood seemed to glitter from the irises. He had sharp features, uncanny in similarity to Gandalf and yet…his harsh silhouette looked as though it could tear through living stone. Long white hair, malicious black brows…A lethal smile curved his sneering lips. _Oh, God…_

Rem bit back what would have been a scream. Or she tried to, but before she could even take a breath a blinding white light glared into her vision. _**You have to choose, Rem…**_ The voice inside her head—Lórien's voice—faded, steadily replaced by another's. Then the pain re-blossomed inside her skull.

"…Rem…"

She moaned: like a flower opening up with the dawn she became aware of just how much her head really hurt. And every jostling movement she experienced only made it feel worse. Slowly, she began to remember just what had happened…and to realize who was calling her name.

"Rem!" Bravely, she cracked an eye open, only to snap it shut immediately. Everything before her was rushing past in a kaleidoscope of nauseating color, rolling away from her at an impressive pace. When she slowly pried apart her eye lids, she took better stalk of her situation.

Rough leather and steel bit into her skin, even through her dress and the elvish cloak. The thick cloth of her corset shielded her from much of this abuse, although she wouldn't be surprised if she still sported abrasions beneath it. Dimly, she also noticed how filthy she was…down there. She had left her pack back at camp, when she had oh-so-brilliantly decided to venture into the woods to find Boromir, and as such was unlikely to get more sanitary napkins._ At least my period is almost over…_A hardly comforting thought, what with circumstances being what they were.

Icy wind whipped violently through her hair, blowing into her face and kissing the back of her neck. Yet it wasn't enough to obscure the awful smell coming off the creature that carried her. An uruk-hai had her thrown carelessly over its shoulder, a steely grip caging her lower thighs to keep her from falling over its back. Rope was tightly bound about her wrists and ankles, almost obscuring circulation to her veins and making her limbs feel numb.

Turning her head gingerly to the side, despite the thick flow of her tangled hair she caught sight of Merry and Pippin. They were trussed up much like she was, except for the fact that they were afforded to ride piggyback style instead. _I feel like a carpet bag._ She thought humorlessly. The uruk-hai were running fast, galloping over yellowed hills and plains amidst rough boulders and churned earth. Though she couldn't see quite well amidst her matted brown hair, she could still make out Pippin's worried face—lips half pursed as though to call her name once more.

"I'm f—fine." Rem croaked, almost too softly for the hobbit. The pounding in her head worsened, thundering inside like a porcupine on Prozac. She moved, feebly, causing her host to tighten his already fierce grip. It snarled viciously, making her wince. She felt sore all over, and her head was painful enough to make her sick to her stomach. Black, fuzzy spots floundered before her already limited vision, until another welcoming darkness set in, blanketing her already frayed senses.

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The plains stretched out before them as they broke from the dry trees. Little was said amongst the trio as the earth passed beneath their feet. The ground flew from beneath their feet, testifying beyond merely their strength of will and determination. Hours went by, journeying into the night. It broadened into pale daylight, and as the evening turned once more Aragorn called a small respite.

Stars glittered and snapped overhead in the cool air. Their beauty was lost to everyone but the elf; Legolas stared up into the heavens, deep in thought. He was less fatigued than his companions in light of his elvish capabilities of endurance. Behind those sapphire eyes, he underwent a quiet castigation with himself.

It seemed like ages since he had sat beneath these same heavens alongside Rem, Gimli at her side as she chirped out her thoughts on the constellations and her mother. Had he known that exchange, which had started pleasantly enough at first, would end badly at his broaching the subject of her father, he'd have kept his mouth shut. The dwarf had piqued his interest on the matter, was all…

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He stared out after her, shock and a mild disgust battling across his features. He honestly could not wrap his mind around the fact Rem had uttered such…Not that it had been exactly profane, as the words she had used were in fact anatomical, but still—

Legolas realized, in judging by the chortling laughter of the dwarf, that surprise was still evidently present in his facial expression. He bristled, ignoring Gimli as he approached. Fighting back a smile, he sat next to the elf, who fought the impulse to arise and seek out another respite in order to regain some semblance of peace. When the dwarf offered no comment, and indeed had finished expressing his amusement, he slowly began to relax. The smile had melted back into the recesses of his rust colored beard, and was replaced with a sobering look. The elf's quiet compliance apparently what the son of Gloin had been waiting for.

"Somethin' on yer mind, master elf?"

"Nothing in need of dire discussion," he replied in a clipped manner. Still, it wasn't enough to dissuade his companion from speaking. He turned his coppery head, checking to see if anyone were focused on their conversation. Legolas didn't know whether to be amused or irked at such cautious behavior. It wasn't as though there was anything of interest to speak of at any length, anyway; let alone something that would require privacy.

"Don't think too harshly of her, lad…She's—"

"You speak as though she engaged in nothing more than idle conversation!" he snapped, frustration bleeding through his tone. Damn. He took a slow breath, trying to calm himself. Much had happened within the span of a few mere moments. In one instant, he had awoken from a stirring dream of mixed passion and euphoria, and the next, Rem had crossed her fine line of decency by screaming out the words vagina and penus…Of all the things to say in front of—His thoughts were cut off by the dwarf.

"She's had a rough time of it." Gimli finished, unfazed by the elf's current temperament. Legolas allowed a beat of silence before he bothered to reply, wishing to be left alone.

"That's no excuse. She ought to display better behavior—"

"And you weren't deservin' of being put in yer place?" he cut in brashly.

"….."

Legolas had the sneaking suspicion that the dwarf had over-heard much of their previous discussion before it had escalated into the full-blown argument it had erupted into. In pausing and giving it actual thought, he had been rather unfair to the girl. She'd only trundled into camp to retrieve something, and he'd reacted badly to her state of under-dress. Quite possibly, he had over-reacted. It was likely she had only been reacting to his own irrational behavior some restless dream had invoked. Mulling this over, he almost missed what the dwarf uttered next.

"As I said: she's had a rough time of it. Not used to being in such masculine company for the greater part of weeks on end…"

"What do you mean, exactly?" Legolas interjected smoothly. Reflecting quickly over the dwarf's suggestion, he admitted to himself in noticing something of that aspect quite long ago. The idea of her being uncomfortable within the company of their group had taken root within his fertile mind once before. Yet it had not occurred to him it was more so because of their gender than anything else. Still, it made some sense.

It had not escaped his notice she had seemed out of sorts every so often when asked an unexpected question or other; Samwise beguiling her to sing came to mind. Still, he had set such observances aside at the time, feeling that it was unimportant. As such, he'd stopped noticing, and Gimli's broaching of the forgotten subject lent him a fresh perspective.

The dwarf snorted, as though the elf were rather slow on the uptake.

"She reminds me of a daughter, if I'd have had one…" Legolas abstained from smiling: ah, then that would explain the manners. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, not bothering to look at his companion, and it was obvious that he was trying to choose his words carefully. "However, she's not really had much experience of a father…" he lapsed into silence, allowing that to sink in.

Beyond them, Legolas became aware of Boromir's rapt attention as he curiously stole looks their way. Aragorn too paid mild attention to their conversation. The hobbits had long since flopped back down on their mattresses, feigning sleep until it had the courtesy to show itself.

"She has no father, then?" A sinking feeling in his chest that promised regret at asking that question; he had initially wondered why Gimli would trouble himself in bringing up Rem's parentage in this situation.

"Aye…lass said he up and left when she was a young 'un."

"She's still young." The words escaped before realizing it, making Gimli chuckle.

"Aye, that she is. But Rem's old in other ways." Legolas nodded slowly, knowing that Gimli had a point: all age from different experiences. While he himself was old compared to a member of any other race, he was in actuality rather young in terms of his own and what he had been through. Much as he sometimes hated to admit it, he had been sheltered for much of his life, and seen far less than his elders.

"She riles you easily." It was spoken bluntly, making Legolas give an almost imperceptible start. He hadn't realized he was so transparent.

"What has that to do with Rem's father?" Gimli saw through his ruse in striving to change the topic, forging ahead cunningly.

"She's got an excuse for her mannerism. For her, the best defense is the best offense for our kind. You've got no reason to jump on her case like that." Legolas closed his eyes briefly, wishing the dwarf had used a better terminology. He nodded once more, grudgingly acknowledging that Gimli was right.

She had every reason to be suspicious of them and their own intentions; he had not really thought of it quite like that before. He had been so determined until recently to gauge her every move that he had lost sight of her as what she really was. A young woman far from home, surrounded by strangers; he was still becoming accustomed to the idea. When he had consoled her in the woods days before, as had been in his nature if not in his own comfort, she had made that painfully clear. She'd practically unraveled before his very eyes: broken from the stress and disappointment of letting someone get hurt.

He couldn't quite explain why, but the fact that she had kept her promise to the Grey Pilgrim even at the cost of his life and the frail trust of the rest of the fellowship was important to him. It bespoke of her character: displayed the lady behind the mask of infantile language and sharp remarks when she wasn't being a klutz.

As his thoughts turned, it also occurred to him that Gimli was much more observant than he had initially believed. Not only that, but he was more than simply a member of the fellowship to which they both adhered for the sake of destroying the One Ring: he could be a friend. He was here, and it was obvious that he was more than willing to listen.

A breeze brushed past them, coming through the grass, swallowing the volume of their voices as they quietly conversed deep into the night. So enthralled were they, that it was nearly missed when Rem wandered back into camp and set up her sleeping arrangements decisively near a weathered statue.

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His azure eyes continued to gaze upward, the snores of his exhausted companions lost to him. Soon, the dawn would break, and with it they would resume the hunt. He cursed himself for a fool: for allowing Gimli's insight from that night in Lothlórien to goad himself into curiously asking Rem about her father. Had he known, no—had he realized how sensitive the topic ought to be for her, he'd have kept his mouth shut in that regard. Bonding with Gimli had made him lower his guard, and the pleasantness of their three-way conversation had blinded him to what had been the potential for verbal disaster.

He had never expected to cut through the fabric of the dwarf's rough exterior to find a true friend, nor gain insight on the girl by their growing exchange. Yet he supposed that he could no longer be thoughtless in his dealing with her. If he truly wanted to learn about her, then it was best to go at a steady pace. But that was only if she survived.

As the sallow yellow of the awakening sun probed its fingers across the horizon, he wondered if Rem were somehow looking up at the fading stars as well…and whether or not she was at all well. He cut off his thoughts there, not wishing to dwell on it. He had not been exaggerating to Rem that night in the woods: orcs were particularly fond of any flesh-induced abuse with females.

He dreaded what they would find. Not for the first time, his mind lingered as to why the uruk-hai had bothered to take her from him— them…Surely, two Halflings were plausible to kidnap and keep unscathed in that Merry and Pippin potentially carried the One Ring in Sauron's eyes. There was not all that much the enemy could want of Rem. In fact, there were really only two reasons…

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Rem woke up once more, this time feeling less like she would lose her lunch and a little more like she could stomach some water. While it was unlikely she would receive the latter, Rem nonetheless congratulated herself in that it was still an improvement in how she was now feeling. To her pleasant surprise, she realized that she was no longer being jostled, and the feeling of coarse grass against her skin confirmed her suspicions of laying on the ground.

She curled in a fetal stretch, much like a subtle cat, before opening her eyes. Pippin and Merry's concerned faces looked into her own. A little disconcerted, wondering how long she had been out, she sat up. Her head felt better, even if it was still throbbing. Luckily, when she had been dropped to the earth, she had not landed on it. She could feel some caked blood back there, or at the very least something undesirably crusty at the back of her scalp. She would have felt it gingerly to investigate the damage, but her wrists and ankles still remained bound. All in all, she felt filthy and bloody in the worst of respects.

"Are you all right, Rem?" She gave a wry smile to Pippin, who had spoken.

"You were out for quite a while." Merry joined.

" I—well, I could be better. But, I don't think I have a concussion at least…" Just what she needed these past few days: brain damage.

"But, how about you? I mean…" they seemed a little bruised and cut up themselves, " are you two going to be all right?" They nodded, albeit slowly. Some of the uruk-hai were watching the exchange, and she couldn't blame the hobbits for their cautious behavior.

"We tried to awaken you earlier, but when we made a move, they pounced on us before we could touch you." Pippin nodded at Merry's sentiment. Rem felt a little touched by the admission: apparently, they'd been worried enough about her to risk a thrashing from their captors. She honestly thought, judging from Merry's split lip and pippin's bruised cheek, that exactly that had come to pass. She bowed her head, in thanks.

"Thanks…but…I'll be okay. We…" she glanced around somberly, feeling a bit hopeless despite the brave face she wore for the hobbits sake, "we just need to stick together." Beady, murderous eyes curiously watched them, while the vast majority ignored them entirely and argued amongst themselves.

Lapsing into silence with the somber remainder of the fellowship, Rem tried picking out some of the heated conversation going on around them. It turned out to be pretty useless, as it turned out she couldn't really concentrate on any given words in thanks to her aching head. But she tried to stay optimistic, knowing that they would eventually when joined by the orcs from the mountains.

As terrifying as it was to be in such company, especially since the leering faces of those on sentry duty made her flesh crawl, she didn't feel as nearly horrified as she might have. She knew for a fact that the Riders of Rohan would inadvertently come to their rescue…or at least, they were supposed to. Still, she told herself that she only needed her hope to hold out until they reached Fangorn. If nothing happened then, well…she would leap from that bridge when she came to it. Right now, there was nothing more that she could do other than to wait…and to hope.

As twilight faded, and Rem was sure not more than an hour had passed since she had first awoken, they found themselves grabbed up once more by their captors.

Stampeding into the ascending dark, Rem chanced a quick look up at the stars, wondering how far away Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn were across the immense terrain.

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However grueling the pace set by the uruk-hai, Rem felt the brutal after-effects of it as she found herself being thrashed around while slung over a blackened shoulder once more. They hadn't stopped again for nearly two days, and Rem could only guess that their first initial respite had more to do with the uruk-hai being lost or some such other reason other than wanting to rest.

As the uruk-hai beneath her slobbered in exhaustion, she strove to remain as motionless as possible. She had found that squirming about or attempting to find some sort of purchase on the creature beneath her drew unwanted attention. He'd pinched her thigh, laughing raucously through heavy, foul breath. Before anything more, another (quite probably his superior officer of sorts) had slammed his fist into the side of his face and threatened him to not soil her; while the message had obviously been sent across, that didn't mean she was about to test her luck and provoke him.

She found herself to be on the receiving end of many hungry stares, and her twisting gut confided that not all of it had to do with pure physical appetite. Legolas' words had come back to her with sharp clarity then, and she'd seriously wanted to vomit as they began to sink in. She could only pray to whatever deity or member of the Valar that were listening would spare her from whatever twisted plans that were in store for her.

As if this were not stressful enough, she had a sinking feeling as to what exactly was to be done with her. She knew, of course, that Merry and Pippin were suspected of carrying the One Ring, while she…well, if her worsening dreams were anything to go by, she knew she was bound for Orthanc as well. Unbeknownst to her, she was indeed fulfilling Legolas' second hypothesis of reason for being kidnapped. It would seem…somehow, Saruman had brought her to this world.

How he knew of her, why he would choose her, and a million other questions tumbled through her mind. Gushing every which way unproductively like a clogged porcelain throne that refused to flush. She felt somewhat in a stupor, unwilling to believe that she had in fact been summoned by the enemy. Rem was in a bit of a daze, and when she mistakenly did not hear Merry calling for her attention—as her dark and foreboding visage had caused him great anxiety—he had been abused into unconsciousness, a bloody gash upon his brow. Pippin had instantly begun to call to him, fear creeping into his voice in concern for his cousin.

"Merry!" Tears stung her eyes. But she wouldn't cry…she would not cry, damn it! She wouldn't give these bastards the satisfaction. She wriggled and thrashed as much as she was able. It annoyed the uruk-hai to no end. He pinched her thigh until she cried out, and she lapsed into silence. Pippin looked stricken; every so often he would murmur Merry's name in a strained whisper. Guilt squirmed inside Rem's gut, but there was nothing else she could do as the frigid wind cut into them from all sides.

Hours passed, and as the fourth day of their capture aged into early afternoon, they came to an abrupt halt just outside the rocky hedge of a cliff's labyrinth. Rem could just barely make out the sound of Pippin's cracking voice.

"Merry…" She held her breath, shaking her head to rid herself of the tangled hair that obscured her vision. Rem could just barely make out a squad of orcs as they emerged from the shadows of great boulders before them, and she paused in her struggle at their approach. They looked as filthy as she felt, and she wanted to squirm away as some of their yellow eyes quite plainly traced over her form. Another voice, rough as though its owner had swallowed a wad of sandpaper, cut over the sound of Pippin's.

"You're late. Our master grows impatient. He wants the Shire-rats and the bitch now." She shivered at that tone, wishing she were anywhere but where she was now. She squeezed her eyes shut, fear eating at her remaining nerves and almost making her miss the uruk-hai's positively guttural reply.

"I don't take order from Orc-maggots. Saruman will have his prize. We will deliver them." Rem didn't want to believe what she was hearing. She had a feeling as to what would come next…But then things suddenly became just a little worse.

"Merry, Merry! Wake up!" The uruk-hai turned, annoyed at the disruption.

"Please, my friend is sick," Pippin pleaded hoarsely, "he needs medicine!" To her dread, the uruk-hai's voice, fairly bleeding malicious intent, answering the hobbit.

"Sick, is he? Give him some medicine, boys!" Raucous laughter broke out as one of them grasped Merry's open mouth, administering a putrid type of grog past his comatose lips.

administering a putrid type of grog to his comatose mouth. He choked awake, much to the raucious laughter of their captors. _Oh God…Merry…_Her eyes snapped to the other hobbit, her heart aching. _Pippin…_

"No! Stop! Leave him alone!" Without really thinking, Rem thrashed around, lashing out as best she could at the uruk-hai that carried her.

"Stop it!" She screamed, heart aching, "Stop doing that!" Without warning, Rem felt herself being thrown to the ground. She let out an involuntary shriek as gravity made her crash painfully into the dry, bladed grass below. Before she could regain her senses enough to struggle away, murderously strong hands kept her in place and forced her to swallow a green liquid. She coughed and gagged at the taste, spitting it up as tears welled up in her eyes.

"C'mon, bitch. yer turn. Swallow it up!" There was coarse laughter, and she wanted to scream as her head was forcefully thrust painfully into the grass. The entire contents of the bottle were poured uncaringly down her throat. Against her desperate and nonverbal protests, some of it managed to trickle down her gasping throat.

She instantly felt sick, wanting to vomit now more than she ever had. But those viciously strong hands kept her mouth shut until the burning in her mouth subsided. Pippin's voice raised an octave, evidently feeling helpless.

"No, Stop! Leave her alone!" Her head began to hurt, and she had an inkling that it was some sort of drug as the world seemed to flip inside out around her. Somewhere, deep inside of her, she recognized that it was more of a reaction of shock than any lasting effects of the foul tasting liquid. She was picked up once more, and with a sickening lurch she found herself tossed over another uruk-hai's shoulder. The metal of his armor bit into her skin, and she lost the battle with herself of promising not to cry.

Her vision was blurring, and it had little to do with her tears. _This was…it wasn't supposed to happen like this. Where…_

Dimly, she realized that she was losing consciousness. Still, her hazy mind was able to pick up on a few words of hopeful promise.

"What is it…? What do you smell?"

"Man-flesh…"

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"Nine, Rem…philanthropy…the common good…compassion and empathy…" Lórien's voice was painfully clear as it rang loudly inside her head. She could barely make herself heard.

"I—I don't understand!" her scream was drowned out by the booming knell of his patient recitation.

"Nine, ulterior motives…the self before all else…violence…Rem, you must choose your path. Saruman is waiting. You are running out of time…" It echoed all around her, sharpening until the blackness that surrounded her cracked into a thousand pieces. Saruman reached for her, and she choked out a failed shriek of frustration that melted into a fear of being swallowed whole.

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Another dawn stole across the sky, aging into the next day break and a bleak evening as Aragorn lead them onward. Impressively, they kept a good pace at a run despite having slept little and having ate even less. It could be fair to say that this was credited to the Lembas bread they kept with them in keeping up their stamina by the smallest of proportions.

On the fourth day, a surge of determination coursed through the blood of Aragorn as he crouched low, listening to the vibration of the thundering earth through a large rock; it was the first real sign of their enemy being near.

" Their pace has quickened. They must have caught our scent." He rushed into standing, breaking into a run as he called over to his companions, "hurry!" Legolas paused in surmounting the hill, calling back to their third companion. Steal was in his voice, laced with a small bit of satisfaction in that they were catching up. They were near…

"Come on, Gimli!" Elation could be felt prickling through his tone. Rem…Merry, Pippin…

"Three days' and nights' pursuit." The dwarf groused, trying to catch his breath, "No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." He ceased his exaggeration and broke out into a run once more, rushing across the landscape with the grace of any boulder down a hill. The flash of something emerald and silver from the depths of the yellowing grass and mud caught the ranger's attention, and he stopped to investigate. Legolas, realizing his friend had stopped, turned to see what had made him halt.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." He breathed, holding up the embellished pendant that adorned the fellowship cloaks of all. It was small, and undeniably a hobbit's. A small wave of elation stole across Legolas' stormy eyes.

"They may yet be alive…"

"Less than a day ahead of us." Aragorn amended, " Come!" An unexpected crash alerted them of the dwarf's arrival as he tumbled down to the ground from the hill's slope. Legolas paused long enough to call out over his shoulder, encouraging him to rise once more in haste.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!"

"I'm wasted on cross-country!" He yelled out hoarsely, "We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!" The earth continued to unroll before them, and as they surmounted another immense hill. They stopped for a second, catching a small respite as they took in the yellowing grass and the sharp, pure sky.

"Rohan." Aragorn murmured, "Home of the horse-lords." A shadow crossed his face, "There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." They hurried forward, not bothering to match the pace of the elf. Legolas rushed ahead to survey the area. The horizon lay stark against the vault of the ground and air, baring all of its promise to the would-be rescuers.

"Legolas, what do your Elf-eyes see?" The elf didn't bother to reply at first, his stomach tightening as realization struck him like a leaden weight.

"The Uruks turn northeast." He called back to Aragorn, "They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" He could hear the ranger's whispered exhalation at the unexpected surprise.

"Saruman!"

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It was with a jarring thud that Rem became conscious once again. Her head was pounding, and it wasn't just from the impact of the ground. Everything was swirling tortuously around in her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the nauseating sensation of everything swimming about her.

"We're not going no further till we've had a breather!" A grating voice gasped amid thick spittle.

Rem's stomach gave a dull lurch as it occurred to her that she had more than likely been drugged. Dazedly, she scrunched her eyes open for a moment, striving to gain her bearings. Blackness was all about, webbing from Fangorn's trees and ominously weaving throughout the long grass she and her the hobbits had been thrown on.

"Get a fire going!" She snapped her eyes shut once more, chanting a mantra inside her head in order to keep calm. _I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine…_If nothing else, it was helping her concentrate on something other than her tummy's desire to dry heave. A soft rusting to her left alerted her of someone's presence as they moved toward her. Chancing her eyes open once again, she met Pippin's strained eyes; glancing between herself and Merry.

"Merry! Rem!" he kept his voice low, rasping like velvet in the darkness. She gave him a wry smile, but Merry opted to speak before she did. He looked dazedly from her to Pippin, a small bit of humor lingering on his mouth.

"I think... we might have made a mistake leaving the Shire, Pippin." Rem nodded, albeit slowly. _Or even __Lothlórien for that matter. _The dull thunder of metal biting into aged wood testified to the orcs current preoccupation. Rem felt her mouth go dry at some of the looks some of their party were beginning to give her. She wasn't all that thrilled with how they were inspecting Merry and Pippin, either.

"I'm…s-sorry." Rem murmured around clenched teeth. Her head was beginning to feel less like it had been bludgeoned and more like it was being stabbed repeatedly by an icicle; her warm blood trickling onto the frozen makeshift weapon. She fought to keep her eyes open, focusing as best she could on the quizzical hobbits.

"You've done nothing wrong." Merry offered hesitantly.

"What do you mean, Rem?" Pippin echoed his tone of voice. She closed her eyes, slumping weakly into the ground. Tears were beginning to bead, and she willed herself not to moan or cry out.

"I—I should have been able to protect you. I knew this would happen—I just—I should have tried harder to prevent it. But I knew Bormomir was…and I had the medicine from Lady Galadriel…" her stale voice chocked into a whimper. There was a pause and Rem braced herself for the coming accusation.

"Not your fault, Rem." Merry said gently. She smiled at him weakly, venturing a grateful look at them. Groans from the forest grew louder, and what might have been mistaken for cracking wood soon became all too similar to primal shrieking and grunts. It made Rem's flesh crawl.

"What's making that noise?" Pippin's awed voice was swallowed by another wracking groan.

" It's the trees." Merry's eyes were large, disbelieving in what little light there was by the moon.

"What?"

"Do you remember the Old Forest? On the borders of Buckland? Folk used to say that there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall... and come alive."

"Alive?" Pippin sounded more shocked than frightened, although she could tell that the latter was beginning to take root.

Rem smiled tightly at the fact that it sounded almost as if they were swapping a campfire story. Except for the probable likelihood that this was all deadly real.

"Trees that could whisper. Talk to each other. Even move." Pippin looked between the two of them, as if to see whether or not Merry was pulling his leg. But at Rem's serious expression, coupled with Merry's unwavering convicition, he realized that it was very likely the truth of the matter.

"I'm starving." The orc's voice was like the sound of a corpse being dragged across gravel: heavy and hollow. "We ain't 'ad nothin' but maggoty bread for three stinkin' days!" Rem's breath, sour from the drug, began to quicken. _Oh, shit…_

"Yeah," a hissing tongue spluttered, "Why can't we have some meat?" There was a beat or two of silence, but the subtle muffled movements of her friends warned Rem that the orc in question had fixated lethal eyes their way. "What about them? They're fresh…"

"They are not for eating!" A commanding voice rasped. Uruk-hai then grabbed up Merry and Pippin, dragging them away from the Mordor orcs; they elicited a hiccup of gasps at the unexpected movement. Rem squeaked unpleasantly when she herself received the same treatment.

"What about their legs? They don't need those. Ooh… They look tasty!" Rem wrenched her eyes open with a strength of will she hadn't really known she possessed. Things were still unclear, fuzzy and disjointed. Still, she knew she'd rather risk throwing up than being eaten herself. The leader of the uruk-hai shoved the orc that had spoken back, cold fury in his actions.

"Get back, scum!" Other orcs began to stir, making the tension in the air that much thicker.

"The prisoners go to Saruman. Alive and unspoiled," he ground out.

"Alive?" Chilling pale eyes inspected the three of them, "Why alive? Do they give good sport?" He licked blackened lips, leering, "need some female company, does he?"

"They have something. An Elvish weapon. The master wants it for the war."

"They think we have the Ring…"

"Hush, Pip!" Rem hissed back.

"As soon as they find out we don't, we're dead." Merry bit out warningly. Pippin snapped his mouth shut, looking around nervously.

"And the bitch is some kind of seer. The master needs her…" Rem swallowed, squirming inside at the proclamation. The sentiment confirmed her suspicions. A shuddering murmur at their backs, however, instantly brought her back to the reality of the situation.

"Just a mouth full ... a bit of the flank…" Merry and Pippin recoiled alongside her, and she twisted away as far as she could.

"No!" A scuffle broke out, wherein the uruk-hai leader unleashed a sharp bladed and decapitated the sneaking orc. It's bloodied head tumbled over them, body spraying them with a foul smelling fluid as it toppled over.

"Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!" A violent cheer went up, and the corpse went up in spray of flesh and blood as the creatures then began devouring it. Pippin looked as sick as Rem felt, and Merry looked worse for wear as well.

"Let's go..." Merry whispered. Stealthily, the hobbits began crawling away. Rem followed as best she could, swaying at the taxing effort.

Her hair was then ripped in a horrifying yank, making her cry out. Before she could catch her breath, Rem felt herself being flipped onto her back. A blade viciously bit into the skin at her neck, promising blood if only given a bit more pressure. Wicked pale eyes stared down into her own, boiling with a sort of hunger.

"Go on, call for help…" She choked as she felt her left breast being squeezed brutally, effectively pinning her to the ground. "Squeal! No one's gonna save you now!" A spear thrust into the orc's back made him give a piercing and gargling shriek of his own.

Rem squirmed away, panic blossoming inside her chest as pandemonium broke out around the encampment. Men on horseback crashed around them, adding a further cacophony to Rem's obscured vision. She easily lost sight of Merry and Pippin, but screamed out for them anyway.

"Head for Fangorn! Merry! Pippin! Get into the woods!" Desperately praying that they would be guided by the sound of her voice, she unsteadily rose to her feet. They were no longer bound, and she thanked god for the small grace. She started running clumsily, dodging weaponry and soldiers she could hear plainly enough but had trouble seeing.

That was when something hard penetrated her shoulder. Questing steel bit her flesh, making her stumble into the undergrowth at the border of the forest. She gasped out, crying. She really did vomit then, more out of shock than anything else.

An arrow had pierced her in the chaos of the ambush, and there was little she could do about it. Overcome by pain and the miserable knowledge that she was injured, she lay there. The tangled bramble of dead tree limbs and thick weeds obscured her from sight as she fought for breath. As her strength began to wane, she feebly began messing with the tight ropes at her wrists. Before her, the battle raged on. _I just need…to get that medicine…it's still in my pocket…_

Far away, as the dawn rose like an angry gash upon the brow of the clouds, Legolas paused. A shadow passed through him at the sight of such a bloody red, and dread coated his mind as he voiced aloud the observation his intuition recognized.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night."

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A/N: Promise I won't leave this as a cliffhanger for long! Thanks to all who've reviewed!!!! Big hugs all around ^_^Apologies for there being no discernable order.

THANK YOU's

Golfbabe87: Yes, and more bonding is sure to come! Hopefully my plot bunny won't disappoint….hopefully, it'll give you better LOTR dreams ^_^ Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

bronsautracks: yes, I actually own 'the 10th kingdom' dvd set ^_^ Went around in high school singing that 'sheep song' by Virgina (since the mascot was a ram, and our fight theme song sucked) lol. Love how cute Wolf is, too…Thanks for the review!! Please keep reading!

Black-Sun-567: Glad it made your day brighter ^_^ Hope you're feeling better, and that this update helps in that regard, too. Thanks for reading and reviewing—please keep it up!!

SlyFox315: I agree—why wouldn't there be chinchillas hanging out there? Lol Hope it continues to make you laugh!! Thanks very much, and please keep reading and reviewing!

leahann: Yup…some alone time…with more around the corner ^_^ Glad Legolas' attitude amused you (Don't care how old you are: when you're nervous, you revert lol). As far as whether or not Rem is aware of what his dream content was, she had an inkling…but figured she was way, way off and decided he was making her uncomfortable enough to drop the topic. She'll reflect on it in another chapter—no worries ^_^ Also, I really appreciate that you commented on the mistakes I didn't pick up on!!! I'm a bit impatient when it comes to posting new chapters, and I very easily miss those. Let me know if I miss anything in the future; it's really helpful ^_^ oh, and don't worry about Rem; I don't plan for her on being raped, so rest assured…Please keep reading and reviewing!!

hereiam: Wow—thank you very much ^_^ You just made my day!! Hope you continue to feel that way as I forge ahead…please keep reading and reviewing!

Ariadne Evans: Weird? Maybe. Unprecedented? Definitely. Lol Glad that you approve, though. I'm writing this for readers, after all ^_^ Yes…elf-boy still doesn't know everything when it comes to ladies ^_~ Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

Olivier: Lol Thanks ^_^ You never know…I might have her turn the tables on him eventually. But it won't be off the bat since she's still pretty clueless when it comes to guys—her confidence could use a starter-kick as well. I promise Rem will be okay!! I hope you continue to read and review!!

Xaia Silversheen: Why thank you very much!! And yes, unfortunately, Boromir did bite the bullet. Sorry = (

But I promise that's not the end of his story!! Please keep reading and reviewing! I'll continue updating as soon as possible!!!

TheartStewart20: Well, things will be a bit more rocky before they get better for Legolas and Rem…but experiences bond people pretty quickly. Plus, he has a better idea of how he really feels since she's gone missing. Hope you continue to like!! And please keep reading and reviewing!!

Ebony: Well, miracles happen—although not all of their arguments are quite over yet; they're both pretty stubbon ^_^ Thank you very much, and hope you keep reading and reviewing!!

estrela jem: Thank you thank you thank you!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

TheFightingTemerairePrettyness: Well, I'm trying my best to plan this out; could fall on my face though 0_o Glad you don't think of Rem as a Mary-sue!! Happy chapter twelve threw you through a loop ^_^ Thanks again, and please keep reading and reviewing!!

Wolfy Pup: Thank you!! Please continue to read and review ^_^

KakashiFangirl43: Mary-sue is a term meaning a female character is perpetuated as a someone not only beautiful, but unaware of that fact. Also, she's your typical damsel in distress that everyone falls for. She doesn't make mistakes and she can be a bit of a martyr when it comes to saving others or doing the 'right' thing. In a nutshell: a mary-sue is an underdeveloped female character. She's the girl on the magazine you want to be, but somehow can't become. Hope that clarifies ^_^ Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Mel: Hope your vacation was awesome ^_^ I'm glad you like the brewing emotions between Rem and Legolas—hopefully I won't stumble as I continue to paint them. Yes, she'll have more dreams about her destiny…Hopefully I won't give anything away until the time is right…and yes, now that you mention it, Legolas ought to have a few more dreams as well ^_^ Psyched you liked chapter ten that much!! I'll strive to top that one in my next chapter! And while she didn't make it with Merry and Pippin into Fangorn, rest assured that she will be found….Please keep reading and reviewing!!

IheartStewart20: Yup, really stupid move. But toooooooo laaaaaaate. Blame her optimism—her dreams are giving her the misguided idea that maybe she has some power of influence on the world around her. Please keep reading and reviewing!!

cherish15: Why thank you very much!!! I'm delighted you enjoy my writing style (and that my grammar doesn't altogether stink ^_^ I'll admit it's not my strongest suite) and hope you continue to enjoy!! Please don't forget to read and review, too!!

LesiaMizune: Thank you very much!! Please continue to read and review!!

elladora lestrange: To be honest, it will be just after the battle of Helm's Deep. However, a few limey incidences will occur before then—so don't lose hope ^_^ I just don't want to ruin the build up by making them fall too hard too fast. Also, rest assured: the enigma of behind Rem's father will be revealed!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

invisiblelikeme: Thank you very much!! I'm glad you think so ^_^ Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Akira Darkness: Thank you very much!! Hope you continue to think so!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

SerenityMoonlight: Thank you very much!! Please continue to read and review!!

Tioman: I'm delighted you like the style!! Also, if you notice any mistakes, please bring them to my attention!! I can be selectively observant, but that doesn't mean I don't want to fix any errors!! I hope this story continues to entertain you, so please keep reading and reviewing!! Thanks for the reviews ^_^

Slywolf9: You're very welcome!! And thank you very much—I'm glad you love it!! Hope it continues to brighten your days!! Also hope you weren't hurt during the pole vaulting _ I'll keep updating as soon as I possibly can!! Apologies for the fact that she couldn't save Boromir, but I promise there's a reason (has to do with her destiny).Thanks for the awesome reviews, and please continue to review more (but more importantly, keep reading)!! And on an off note, yes…the dream was weird. But they're usually unusual, any way lol

Melannen Halfelven: Thanks a bunch!! Please keep reading and reviewing!

yourmaster: Thank you!! Glad you think so ^_^ Please keep reading and revewing!!

midnightblue123: Ah! Another clamari lover!! Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you continue to read and review ^_^

bookworm412: Yowza 0_0 That is the singularly most flattering review I have ever received!! Thank you so very much!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!!!

Jes Freedark: Thanks—I'm glad you think so! Please keep reading and reviewing ^_^

Elfie Gurl: Thank you and please keep reading/reviewing!!

LittleBuddha: Lol Sorry about the cliffhanger; but please keep reading and reviewing!!

rainrushingwindowpain: Lol yeah…that does cross one's mind (as well as thwack into it _) Please continue to read and review, as well as enjoy!!


	14. Protection

Disclaimer: Nothing is or ever will be mine, and no profit is being made….and Rem interjects that she belongs to herself.

A/N: Told you I wouldn't leave you hanging For long^_^ Please continue to read and review!! If there are any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out.

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'I can't protect you

Without holding a sword

I can't embrace you

While holding a sword'

~Tite Kubo

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Sweat, caked with the filth of dried earth, mingled with the fresh red liquid dribbling from where the arrow had pierced her. While Rem had managed to wring her hands out of the painfully tight ropes, her wrists were bruised and kissed with angry welts for the effort. Her eyes burned, too dry to really shed any more tears.

Hours had passed since she had first fallen into the blackness of an unnatural sleep, and the battle cries amid crashing steel had long since ceased. Coupled with the agony of the arrow embedded in her flesh, the drug made her fall in and out of consciousness. When she awoke to total silence, she had cried out in frustration. _I'm so stupid! So fucking stupid…I—I can't believe I'm this weak…_When nothing but wretched hiccoughs escaped her dry throat, she calmed down, evening her breath. Tears had dried; no doubt leaving dirty streaks down her face. As the sunlight slanted through the trees that bespoke of early afternoon, she came to a concrete decision.

There was no guarantee that she would be found, let alone by whom she wanted... Stormy blue eyes crossed her mind at this thought, and a dull throb pulsed inside of her heart. But she mentally shook off the strange yearning. _Get a hold of yourself…they—they might not come…_Brushing aside the cobwebbed residue the green substance had left inside her thoughts, she scrabbled through the pocket at her skirt, gritting her teeth at the movement.

_Oh, thank god!_ For whatever reason, fate had not allowed her to crush the small vial of medicine procured from the generous Lady of The Galadhrim. Pulling it out, she clasped it to her chest, and grabbed an un-ruined, hearty portion of her elvish cloak. Shoving as much as she could into her mouth, she bit into it as she gingerly touched the arrow.

She winced, hissing and swallowing a whimper at the violent twinge it caused in her left shoulder. _I was lucky…_She told herself, carefully aligning her fingers into a firmer grip, trying not to jostle it unnecessarily. _My clothing stopped it from going too far…it could have been worse. Much worse—_She braced herself, then wrenched out the arrow.

The scream that almost escaped her mouth was muffled by her biting down into the thick cloth of her cape. She had little doubt that her teeth might have cracked had she not locked her jaw into the fabric. Tears she hadn't thought she had the strength to cry leaked out past her eyes, dripping out into a few grubby beads.

The initial tearing sensation began to wane, although it still hurt unbearably. Numbly, Rem fumbled with the medicine, twisting off the cap. However, the muck covering her hands kept her from easily accomplishing just that. She floundered with it miserably, her shoulder burning as fresh blood slicked across her grimy skin. _Shit…can't I do any fucking thing right…?_

Rem almost cried out in relief as she managed to pry off the cap. Hardly preparing herself for the inevitably bitter taste, she didn't hesitate before pouring it into her mouth and swallowing it down. She cringed at the sour flavor, and sniffed at the vial suspiciously. _It…it probably won't work immediately. I should just…lie here, until someone comes._

The thick smoke emitting from the charcoal of dead corpses burning further away would no doubt attract attention. She wasn't yet positive what kind, at least until Gimli and the others came. Until then, she ought to keep a low profile and allow the medicine to do its work. Stormy eyes in a passionate visage crossed her mind briefly once more, and she closed her eyes in silent objection. Cringing, she moved her right arm until the hand was giving slight pressure to her left shoulder. The pain lessoned some, and she continued to press down harder in order to slow the creeping flow of blood from the wound.

The arrow lay before her, glittering ominously in the daylight, slickly dyed red by her own fluid; a reminder to the pandemonium of battle. _At least…Merry and Pippin should be all right._

"Fine," she croaked aloud to reassure herself, "They'll be fine..." _They'll have met Treebeard by now…_

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He hardly noticed it at first; in fact, he mistook the sound of hooves galloping across stone and grass as thundering rolling in the distance. Still, he recognized it before his two companions, if only just. What looked like no more than a shadow to the eyes of an ordinary man moved across the land. Yet Legolas could count each bristling spear carried by the approaching riders astride horses.

Reacting hastily, Aragorn bid them through gesticulation to take cover in the amassing boulders cropping along the hill's peek. They had to wait but the breath of a moment before the small army surmounted the crest of yellowing green and began to pass. Legolas held his tongue, as did Gimli, as Aragorn arose from his crouch and took matters into his own hands.

"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?" threading their way grimly from the great rocks, they found themselves surrounded by a tight knot of the suddenly encircling warriors. The maneuver tightened around them, and Legolas grasped his bow tensely; Gimli's grip did not falter upon his axe. A forest of lethally tipped spears hedged in on them, making them cautious of its potential threat.

"What business does an elf, a man and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" The brash tone of voice emerged from the lowering circle of spears, and a man younger than Aragorn came to their attention with a steely brown in his eye. "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." Gimli returned pleasantly. Despite the grim seriousness of the situation, Legolas had to fight back a smile. It didn't escape his notice that Aragorn looked a bit exasperated. The young man, however, looked less than amused. Abruptly, he pushed his shaft to another rider, and dismounted from his steed, helmet sparkling in the sunlight. The ranger, a bit put out it would seem, put his hand to Gimli's proud shoulder as though to deter him from making any other implicating remarks.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf," he bit out darkly, "if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Rage, and something altogether protective, flared inside of Legolas. Barely aware of his own movements, impulse and frustration drove him quick as lightening to load and match his arrow-laden bow to the man's face before he had a chance yet to breathe.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" Lowered spears snapped upward toward their throats and vulnerable flesh once more at the threatening gesture. But within a heartbeat, Aragorn hastily rescued the situation by forcefully lowering Legolas' well-aimed bow. Common sense flooded though his veins once more, and he followed through on the well-meaning action. Yet no small amount of resentment continued to burn within him.

True, he hardly knew Gimli. He himself had verbally spared with the dwarf using barbed, distasteful words. But that didn't mean he hadn't grown to trust, and even like, Gimli. Still, the unspoken truth that revealed the growing fondness he had for his companion by his own actions still obviously surprised the dwarf. Especially judging by Gimli's facial expression just now; it even surprised himself.

He couldn't bring himself to regret his actions. Nor deny that he felt an arising kinship with him. He could blame Rem; while she had not sparked their kindling friendship, trust was being earned by initially caring for the same person. A person…a woman, that was meant to be in their care. He ignored the odd looks he supposed that he had gained, choosing instead to focus un-wasted effort upon the haughty silhouette of the young man in front of them.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." His voice rang out with iron, tempered with a mustering patience. "This is Gimli, son of Glóin and Legolas of the Woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king." The fierceness previously kindled in the man's eyes burned out as he spoke soberly.

"Théoden no longer recognises friend from foe…" He reached for the helmet as it glinted viciously, and there was a sore woe to his tone, " Not even his own kin." The spears were once again withdrawn as the Rider's leader ventured on warily.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning." Something malicious tightened his facial expression as he blatantly sized up Legolas. The elf felt his own eyes harden in retaliation, blood beginning to boil. "He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." Gimli bristled, taking in the implicated accusation.

"We are no spies." Aragorn interrupted, drawing back the man's focus, "We track a party of uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken three of our friends captive." There was a pause, and then the young man spoke again.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two hobbits!" Gimli roughly bit out, dread apparent by his mannerism, "And a girl! Did you see her or the two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small – only children to your eyes." Aragorn put more calmly.

"The woman had dark hair." Legolas interrupted, the velvet of his tone masking his own apprehension and fear, "Eyes to match. All three of them clothed like us with the elvish cloaks of my kin." The man seemed to weigh his words carefully before he spoke next.

"…We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." Whispering tendrils of smoke were pointed to in the distance, and Legolas felt his stomach clench at the sight of it.

"Dead?" Disbelief was palpable on Gimli's face. Legolas, too, refused to believe. His eyes ran downward, running over the lowering spiral of smoke where it dwindled from the dark hulking trees surrounding it. Grief gnawed at him, and his questing hand numbly clapped itself upon Gimli's shoulder. Thoughts inside him were racing, blurring into a torrent of refusal. Rem was fine…Merry and Pippin were…They were…All three of them. This was ridiculous. He just couldn't accept this. This was a mistake. This had to be some mistake. A dull ache settled into the hollow of his throat, and his head began to hurt. The painful beat of his heart felt empty inside his chest.

"I am sorry." His turbulent, azure eyes ascended to the young lord once more as the man in question whistled.

"Hasufel! Arod!" Two horses were brought forth, and without question handed over their reins to Aragorn.

"…May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell." Without looking back, his footsteps heavy, he replaced his helmet and remounted his stead.

Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope, it has forsaken these lands." A bitter expression crossed his features, and he turned. "We ride north!" He bellowed, and with the sound of earth being ripped up by horses around them, the dismissing Riders galloped away. Legolas didn't bother to look after them…his eyes returned once more to the silvery smoke indicating where Rem and the hobbits could very well lay. Ice had replaced his veins. Automatically, he aided Gimli and then he himself mounted Arod. This was…Entirely implausible...

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The smell of the burning carcasses was something to behold. Gimli coughed when the scent first ascended his nostrils, and Legolas would admit that the grimace on his face was not entirely borne of worry. Dismounting, the dwarf was the first to bravely churn about some of the acrid remains with his axe, determined to find some sort of clue.

Something undeniably elven—a sheath carved in a spiral pattern that had once looked golden in sunlight, was pulled away with it's leather chewed by damage. Legolas felt his throat tighten at the sight as Gimli murmured unnecessarily.

"It's one of their wee belts."

Legolas bit his tongue, fearing that if he did not he might erupt in a guttural scream. This wasn't happening…This couldn't happen. Already, his sharp eyes were looking at everything as stalked further from the pyre, desperately seeking what he could not accept was missing. He stumbled and missed a step, whirling around at the sound of Aragorn, giving voice to what he himself abstained. The shattering sound of a worn and battered helmet testified to its being kicked forcefully across what had once been the uruk-hai encampment, before the ranger agonizingly fell to his knees.

Concern broke out for his friend, and he hastily trundled back toward them; Fangorn at his back. The calm expression upon Aragorn's face worried him far more than any other. It was more dangerous at a glance than any helpless frustration brewing within them all could ever hope to achieve in a look.

"We failed them…" Gimli's voice was rough with emotion.

"…Not…yet." It was spoken no louder than the hint of a whisper, but Legolas heard it nonetheless. With rapt attention, he instantly focused on the ravaged brush skirting the edge of the forest. Granted, it was less tangled and overgrown than any other wood that opened against a glade. But the dead limbs and decaying branches of Fangorn's trees offered some shelter from prying eyes at least. A movement, a slight twinge of the yellowed grass and black underbrush moving against the wind had him leaping toward it.

Suddenly aware of their companion's behavior, Gimli and Aragorn rushed after him, the latter more sedate and with caution. Stormy, turbulent eyes took in the scene first. A body…no, a young woman laying on her stomach; caked with earth and dried sweat. She smiled weakly up at him, peeking up through the tangles of her dirty hair.

"…What took you guys so long?..." He could scarcely find his voice.

"Rem…!" She closed her eyes at the sound, speaking so softly he hardly was able to make sense of the words.

"Yup…that's my name…don't wear it out…" She opened her eyes once more, a pained expression threading over her features as she tried to sit up. Without thinking, Legolas hurried to aid her. His haste, however, was badly received. She cried out at the quick movement, biting her lip at the last second to stifle herself.

It was then he fully noticed the extent of her injuries, and that not all of the dark stains upon her hair, clothes, and skin were dirt alone. There was blood…dried nearly black due to its age and grimy coating. It did not escape his notice that an arrow, suspiciously stained crimson at its head, lay close to her hand.

Heart pounding, he began checking her over; gently running his hands over her body to better assess her injuries. She winced, a tinge of panic coloring her hoarse voice at his close proximity.

"…Wha—hey, no frisking…!" He ignored her. Weakly, she tried to wriggle away from his cloistering scrutiny. Having none of that, he grasped her right wrist, holding it before his face so that their eyes met. His azure eyes burned into her own watery brown , and she wilted, wordlessly consenting to his inspection. He went back to what he was doing, anxiety tearing at his fraying nerves over the fact that Rem had hardly put up a fight.

Aragorn knelt beside him, startling the elf from his absorbing concern. Rem eyed him dizzily, wary of the ranger's presence as Legolas continued to probe and stroke.

"Lass—are ye all right?" Gimli continued to breathe heavily from his short sprint, despite his earlier bragging. Her voice sounded worn as she spoke, cracking as though dry.

"I…I was shot last night...In the back..." Legolas' palm came in contact with the back of her head, a pained squeak leaving her lips. The same sound blew past her teeth in a gasp when he gingerly felt her back near her left shoulder.

"You suffered a blow to the head." Aragorn sounded grim when he spoke.

"Oh…yeah…Well, that too…"Legolas almost rolled his eyes at her scatter-brained response. Still…she was alive. She was here…and so he abstained.

"I took some medicine…" She croaked, feebly showing them a small glass vial that lay in the grass. "But I don't think it's working yet…Do you have any water?" Hasitly, Gimli un-strapped a canteen he had been carrying at his side. He thrust it at Aragorn, but Legolas was quicker. He snatched it up, untwisting the lid and brining it gently to Rem's lips as he carefully laid her back to receive the reviving liquid. After a few swallows, he took it away, chiding her gently.

"Drink it slowly or you'll make yourself ill." He brought it back to her mouth, and she followed his instruction. When she had taken enough—or rather, when the canteen seemed nearly empty, she stopped. He set it aside, looking into her chocolate brown orbs to discern whether or not she was able to focus them properly. The sound of Aragorn clearing his voice made him look up, but the ranger's gaze was fast upon the dreary looking girl.

"This medicine…where did you obtain it?" She gestured toward it feebly, exhaustion and relief making her drowsy.

"Lady Galadriel…" Without meaning to, she closed her eyes, sleep taking her. Legolas continued to hold her a moment or two longer than was necessary, thinking quietly. Aragorn arose, speaking softly so as not to wake her.

"A fever is setting in; we ought not move her until it is passed. I'll see to the horses and assess what it is we lack in order to treat her." The elf nodded, indicating that he had heard him. Feeling the dwarf's stare, he looked over at him.

Upon matching eyes with the dwarf, Gimli let out a grunt, sitting down to watch. Had the circumstances been different, Legolas would have smiled at the realization that his companion was taking it upon himself to chaperon them. Still, this was no time to allow his feelings to wonder over his or even Rem's feelings; let alone those belonging to Gimli. Right now, Rem needed immediate attention.

As motionless as he could, he pulled her more fully into his embrace so that she would be more comfortable before waking. While the fate of Merry and Pippin worried him, as it still probably did Gimli and Aragorn, here and now had to come first. She had to come first; for she was within their reach…

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The soft trickle of water permeated her senses; the chuckling sound dully throbbed in the air like birdsong from a nearby fountain. Flowers beyond compare in color and laden with exotic fragrances blossomed across the earth and cloistering cliffs. Rem groaned, dropping her head into her hands in befuddled misery. A soft sound, not unlike a sigh, made her look up. She glowered at him, knowing full well that she was sound asleep. Or passed out. She couldn't exactly remember.

"You know…I'm really starting to fucking hate this place." She groaned in frustration.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She leveled a glare at Lórien, wishing that this whole encounter was over and done with.

"I don't get you! She spat, jumping up from the stone bench, "Why here? Why back in this place? Last time you spoke to me, I was—"

"Ah, but that was then," he responded demurely, coming forward, "and this is now." She stifled an annoyed grunt, clenching and unclenching her fists.

"Yeah, thanks for clearing that up." She hissed, "you're still not making the least bit of sense! Why not try spelling it out for a change?" surprisingly, he tilted his head, as if seriously considering the matter. She held her breath, waiting. He seemed to debate the matter before answering.

"I can see…that you are still unaware of the role you have been cast to play."

_Okay. Duh._ She kept this seething thought within the constricting bowels of her mind, not wishing to interrupt Lórien if he were—finally—about to let slip something worthwhile.

"You have no inkling then…?" She thought she might strangle something.

"No," she grit out as calmly as she was able, "I don't. you just keep alluding to the number nine, and how my birthday adds up to it…" A sudden thought occurred to her, "look, if this has anything to do with my being the ninth walker of the fellowship, you're mistaken. I'm actually the tenth…" she trailed off, coming to the attention that he was shaking his head.

"In your world…was there never talk of numbers and letters?" Judging by his even, quiet tone, Rem had the feeling he was taking great pains to spell this out. Apparently, he thought she was rather dull. Fuck if she cared though. So long as she finally gasped the point of whatever the hell he was talking about. Abstaining from letting out a frustrated sigh, she raked her brain.

_Number and letters…numbers and letters…numb—H-hey, wait a minute…_She locked eyes with Lórien, hesitating.

"I think…there might have been." He nodded, gesturing for her to elaborate. She did so, feeling odd as she did. The memory of coming across such a thing a book reminding her…

"There was this guy….a long time ago. I think he was Greek—uh, a type of ethnicity. And he was a part of this religious cult. They—he and his followers, believed that numbers and music were the key to the universe….and aside from the Pythagorean Theorem, Pythagoras devised a way of matching personalities with names by graphing numbers and letters…" she trailed off, a wave of stupidity trampling over her other emotions. This was dumb, there was no way—

" That is a start, little one."

"…!..."

"Your name," he continued, ignoring the surprised look on her face, "by that sequence, adds up to the number nine." She stared at him, blustering.

"But—how can…I mean, that's only with the Roman alphabet! I've been speaking the Common Tongue since I—"

"Things never differ far from their origin, Lady Rem." She failed at biting back a sigh, giving him a more sullen look.

"…Please don't call me 'lady'…" He continued as if he had never been interrupted, although he did take care in abstaining from calling her that again.

"You are the nine, Rem. In fate through birth and by your name. All you have left now is to better understand and embrace the meaning—"

"…we shouldn't tell her." All at once, his words began to fade, as did the strange garden; interrupted by others. Familiarity plucking at her subconscious in the rhythm with which they were spoken…Shit!! And she had been so close…!! It almost made her want to scream…

"Why not? It's enough to make a mead hall proud!" _What the hell are they talking about?_

"That's not reason enough to humiliate her!" Ah, that last velveteen voice sounded a bit like Legolas was losing his patience.

"She is awake now." The thick, grandfatherly tone immediately struck her brain, making it stutter. _Wait! That's Gandalf's voice!_

"Wha…?" She cringed at the sound of her own hoarse voice. Apparently, drinking the better portion of Gimli's canteen hadn't been enough to remedy her dry throat. She cracked her eyes open, noticing that she had immediately become the center of attention once she uttered that single syllable.

"You're awake!" Legolas' stormy eyes fixated on her, making her nervous with their intensity. Aragorn, luckily, came to her rescue.

"Are you feeling well?" She craned her neck upwards, squinting in order to see him in the bright evening light.

"Well…enough…" The tranquil smile blossoming across Legolas' face was enough to gain her attention once more, and they locked eyes. For a fleeting moment, she forgot to breathe.

"…I guess." She finished lamely, ducking her head. "Uh…so what were you guys talking about just now?" her brown eyes arose once again, taking in the sight of Gandalf in white garments of ethereal bearing. "…and, are you all right?" He smiled at her, immediately untwisting the larger knot her stomach had woven itself into. Still, the smaller lump—inspired by the elf—just wouldn't go away. It didn't escape her notice that the rest of her companions seemed immediately tense at her remark.

Perhaps they had forgotten their earlier dismissal of her as a seer, only for the previous judgment to reappear for their scrutiny. With no small amount of trepidation, Rem thought that she may have given herself away. It now seemed wholly obvious to them now why exactly Saruman had ordered her kidnapping along with the hobbits.

"I am well, Rem. As you seem to be." Relief began trickling through her veins, and she sat up albeit dizzily. Still, at least now there was no nausea at the movement, even if her head felt a little fuzzy. Legolas was immediately at her side, assisting her. She refused to look at him full in the face, nervous for some inexplicable reason.

"So…what were you talking about…?" There was a beat or two of silence.

"You threw up on him, lass," Gimli put bluntly, gesturing toward the elf. Her face paled, feeling cold, before embarrassment burned it red in a rush of heat. She blanched as Gimli elaborated, and Legolas notably stiffened as the dwarf went into detail.

"Kept tossing and turning in your sleep. And when he was striving to get you to take some stew last night, you—"

"Enough, Gimli." Aragorn didn't sound angry in the least, but he looked very near the verge of a headache or such as he massaged the back of his neck, refusing to look at Rem. In fact, only Gandalf still retained his pleasant visage as everyone else strove not to make eye contact.

"I…uh….Sorry," Rem squeaked, blanching. However, the sound of a smile in the elf's voice had her bravely meeting his azure eyes once more.

"It's a small price to pay…to have you back." Tentatively, she smiled back.

"Strange though…is it not?" The both of them looked over at Aragorn, who had spoken.

"What's that?" Gimli grunted.

"That the medicine given to Rem by Lady Galadriel would have no effect…" Rem shrugged unhelpfully, unconsciously seeking Legolas' hand with her own. She felt immediately warm as, after subtly brushing his hand, he threaded his fingers between her own.

"Maybe it expired…?" She suggested. Gandalf held up the vial, taking it from his robes where he must have stowed it. He looked at it reflectively, before handing it to Aragorn. Though she could have been imagining it, she could have sworn the white wizard was fighting back a smile. Almost as if he knew something…

Aragorn inspected it reflectively, sniffing it and rolling it between his fingers. Surprise was evident on his features as he regarded Rem.

"Did she remark on what type of medicine it was that she gave you?..." She stared at him, a small bit of dread building up in her stomach at the look on his face. Was something wrong?

"Um…No. She just said that she hoped I wouldn't have to use it, but with such a long journey ahead…she feared that I would…" he shook head, almost in wonder.

"We believe that this is a different medicine from what you believed altogether." Gandalf put gently. She blinked, still not quite hitting home.

"What do you mean, exactly?" she ventured, squeezing Legolas' hand for comfort. She felt immediately nervous and exhilarated to a small degree that he squeezed back.

"It is what a woman takes to keep from conceiving." Aragorn replied quietly. The color immediately drained from Rems face at the announcement.

"She gave me birth control?!" She shrieked. She tried snatching her hand away from Legolas' as quickly as though she were in danger from getting burned, fuming. However, he would not relinquish his grip…not at first at any rate. She crossed her arms under her chest, embarrassment and anger warring within her, with the latter making more of a blatant appearance. "What the hell was she implying?!" She couldn't look at Legolas; she just wouldn't. This was far worse than throwing up all over him…Galadriel had thought—she knew….!!

_HOW?!!_

She wished the ground would open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

"Rem, how much did you take?" Legolas' soothing voice brushed over her ears, making her blush one shade darker.

"All of it!" She snapped, not missing the fact that Gimli's eyebrows shot up at the exclamation. The dwarf shook his head, muttering to himself.

"…Gods couldn't get you pregnant for the next six months." She heard him.

"I didn't know they were trying!" She snapped back.

"Rem…" She glanced over at Legolas, biting her lip in regret. "You need to calm yourself." Worry was evident there…but so was something else. Something which until very recently escaped her notice up until now; it was there, just beneath the surface. Waiting…lurking patiently…She felt like she was going to be swallowed up by those stormy, turbulent eyes that had darkened so considerably…

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A/N: I would like to note that the part about Pythagoras is true.

What they don't tell you in math class is that he was indeed a religious cult leader that devised the system of numerology, among other things. Interesting, huh?

To give you a better idea of where I'm going with this, google 'numerology' online to see what I'm getting at.

I took care in choosing Rem's number for where I'm going with this story. Another hint is that it has absolutely nothing to do with her saving Middle Earth and all that cliché Mary-Sue goodness (I'm staying far, far away from that evil plot-bunny). As you can tell from previous chapters, she has little impact in changing anything around her….And that's not about to differ. So…can you guess her purpose? ^_~

THANKS TO ALL WHO"VE REVIEWED!!!! And hugs to those who've put this story on their 'favorites' list ^_^ Please continue to read and review—and I'll continue to update!!!

Black-Sun-567: Thank you very much!! Glad you're feeling better, too ^_^ Hope this update was soon enough!

TheFightingTemerariePrettyness: First of all, I want to thank you for taking the trouble to review my chapters piece by piece ^_^ Gives me a kick!! It also makes me happy that they're so long and thought out!! Thank you very much!! Also, while the elf wasn't quite that homicidal in this chapter, I promise extra distraught turbulence from him in the next chapter: I'm filling in some of the details about the length of what happened here (takes more than a day to recover from a fever) ^_~ I figured re-iteration from a different perspective might make it more fun to type up…

Olivier: Thank you very much! Glad I'm keeping them up to par ^_^ And I hope I didn't make you wait too terribly long ^_~ Hope you enjoyed!

SlyFox315: Thank you!! Sorry they didn't find her, but hopefully this and the next chapter will make up for that disappointment ^_^

Akira Darkness: lol Why thank you!! Glad I seemingly grabbed your attention ^_^

Marigold3969: You are very welcome—and thank you very much!! Turnabout is fair play in that wording lol). I hope you continue to enjoy my imperfect story ^_^

MaruiBuntaWorshipper: Yeah, orc-napping wouldn't be my bag of tea, either…Might consider otherwise if the elf came to my rescue, though ^_^ In as far as Rem mentioning she was the ninth member (did I write that…?) she's most definitely a tenth walker, albeit up to the point of Gandalf's death. However, no one as of yet knew that he would return, so she's back to being ten…kind of. Borromir did pass away…But anyway, it has no bearing on her 'number' as a nine. It's beside the point, and just a coincidence that Tolkien made such use of it. Honestly only latching on to it because of what numerology matches it with. Hope that clarifies ^_^

Xaia Silversheen: Thanks, and hope this was quick enough ^_^

Minako: lol Thank you. Your wish is my command ^_^

Tioman: Thank you very much!! Hope it didn't pale too terribly in comparison to Tolkien's…ah heck, never mind (of course it did lol) because he's an awesome writer ^_^ Glad you're reading him, too ^_^

Sonja: Thank you—hope it continues to do so!! Glad you are interested in her father's past, as well. More on the way in terms of revealing that aspect ^_^ There's a family secret involving that ….

chelsea chelsea jean jean: Lol yes, I was afraid that might happen. But I needed the deja` vu context it gave. Thanks very much for all of your compliments—they're very much appreciated ^_^ It's Writer-fuel!! So thank you , thank you, thank you ^_^

Callisto Callispi: Thanks; glad I could change your mind about mine^_^ Also tickled you love Rem…and appreciated the CPR (hey, she TRIED to save his life…no one can say she didn't try _). Hn, didn't realize the Borromir thing was that cliché, but you said it was somewhat more original here. Relieved about that…I'm happy you appreciated the suspicion with which she was received by the fellowship, too. Personally, I wouldn't trust someone off the bat that just kind of fell out of nowhere when things were taking a dire turn. Agreement about the pants: in fact, you've just inspired me to have Rem beg some off of Éowyn lol Again, thank you very much for your reflective review, and will continue writing!!

Melannen Halfelven: Thank you and hope it didn't disappoint!! (There are more details about it in the next chapter from Legolas' perspective if it did—so don't wash your hands of this story yet!!!)

rainrushingwindowpain: Wow 0_0 really? Thank you very much!!! I hope you continue to think so by the time I finish!! Agree about TOM…one of the reasons I purposefully incorporated it here (no one else seemed to mention it, so I took it upon myself to give a dose of reality). Thanks again!! Will update again as soon as I can ^_^

Wolfy Pup: Here you go ^_^ Will update again asap!!

estrela jem: Thank you very much!! More reaction-ness from the elf's POV will be evident in the next chapter ^_^ Hope you look forward to the next chapter, too!

Mel: Lol Glad my methods have gotten you hooked on my 'word candy'^_^ Will continue to do my best in order to post quickly and cover all loose ends concerning Rem's father and fate. Thank you very much for the deliciously long review!! Those are my favorite kind!! More Legolas POV in the next chapter to come ^_^

Golfbabe87: You are very welcome!! Hope this was soon enough ^_^ Legolas' feelings will be revealed in greater detail next chapter—promise!! Thanks for reviewing ^_^


	15. The Millstone

Disclaimer: As much mine as it is to you, so please no sue!!! Everything (except Rem) respectively belongs to Tolkien and company.

A/N: Sorry for the belated update…went to a three-day anime convention this past weekend (It was AWESOME!!!) ^_^ But I digress…Hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please remember to review!!! ::falls out of her chair:: Can't believe how many my last chapter received!! Thank you!!

*This Legolas POV chapter is a bit backward in coming forward in that it takes place during Rem's comatose state—when they meet up with the supposedly dead Gray Pilgrim…Apologies for the short length!!

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'It's turning…

If fate is a millstone

We are the ones that make it turn

We believe that the crushing wheel…

…Is guided by an infallible power'

~Tite Kubo

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He cradled her against his chest, an anxious rush of adrenaline within his bloodstream at her close proximity. Or perchance it was fear: the knowledge that she was ill and had nearly kissed death on the lips with that arrow wound and the ensuing fever. Had she been shot at a closer range rather than with a stray arrow in the dark; had she not worn thick clothing, or especially that corset…

He fought off a blush at that last thought. Old as he was, a part of him remained ever so young. And this was Rem after all…Rem, of all people. There were dozens of mortals and elven women for which he might have fallen. Eressë had been far fairer than she, and Larien more witty. But then…they were still not her. He upbraided himself: mentally cajoling that he and Rem were practically strangers in nearly every regard. Yet something about her drew him in, despite her volatile temper with emotions that often enacted against common sense.

She was a mercurial woman that never ceased to frustrate and disturb him: whether by her demeanor or simply through having a body that made his mouth water. And by the latter he was beginning to accept—no, to see—that it reflected more of a means by which she carried herself than purely just the appealing proportions of her flesh…She was a spit-fire with erratic opinions and a wry sense of humor with a knack for being as impulsive as he. She foolishly went about trying to prove herself when there really was nothing to prove. Rem tried her best…even when the odds were stacked against her. She was not immune to failure, nor perfection in its every detail. No, Rem made mistakes…but despite that, she always found a way to endure…

She uttered a small moan, making him convulsively clutch her tighter to his chest. His response to the sound was so immediate that Gimli gave them a scrutinizing look. He didn't blame him. He felt that he could hardly trust himself. Upon finding that she was alive had made him feel like his skin was the only thing from keeping him going everywhere at once. He had sobered through the initial elation in the days since then, but that didn't mean he hadn't scented a change in the air since then.

Yes, he was past denying the attraction: of the consuming interest that had opened up within his chest for this girl…for this infuriatingly imperfect woman. He looked up at the sound of Aragorn's approach, regarding him expectantly. They had since moved further from the remains of the uruk-hai encampment. It had been agreed amongst them that it was best to sleep further from the shadow of Fangorn while Rem recovered.

There was also no telling what strange creatures would be drawn to the acrid smoke that had not yet whittled away to being indiscernible from a distance. The words of the young captain guiding the Rohirrim, whom Aragorn guessed was Éomer and nephew to the king of Rohan, came back to them. That the white wizard was cunning, and disguised himself in order to espy happenings in the land of the horse lords which he himself would claim and lay waste to. With everything weighted toward that degree, coupled with the fact Rem needed immediate rest, it had been in their best interest to camp at a safer point.

They had chosen a rocky outcropping that boasted higher ground for a particularly good view of the area. More than that, it lay next to a small body of water not large enough to be called a lake with broken rock fencing along some of its sides. It was likely an outbreak of groundwater that time had threaded too close to the earth's surface, thus giving exposure to its resource.

"How does she fare?" It was a fare enough question, given that the evening was now beginning its descent. Legolas shook his head, signifying that there had been no real change. Every now and again Rem would shiver, and unknowingly huddle closer to the elf's own body warmth. Gimli tended a low fire, boiling some water. Aragorn had been hesitant at the allowance, but had easily relented when the dwarf pointed out that Rem would be in constant need of sustenance and hygienic availability.

When they had first initially set up camp, it came to everyone's attention that Rem's general physical condition was much less than what could be desired. More in point, that she was in desperate need of a bath before her injuries could be properly tended. Gimli had been the first to volunteer in seeing to Rem's clothes. It was a painstaking process: he had scrubbed the garments as best he could within the clear pond, scouring them as best he could. Going a step further, he had retrieved an abandoned helmet from the battle field and fervently cleaned it for use as a pot. He then boiled water, in increments, to break up some of the more stubborn stains on Rem's garments that required more tedious care than mere cold water.

Legolas had envied the dwarf's job.

For while he had seen to the task of taking care of her garments, that left Rem in…positively nothing. Which meant that both he and the ranger had to bathe the young girl, as she was in fact in no condition to do so for herself…aside from the fact that she was still unconscious. Legolas had felt a tumultuous rush of emotions at the knowledge that Aragorn would be seeing her naked…Not that he doubted his friend's honor in the least. It was more so that he wished no one to see her but himself. But the admittance to such went beyond making him feel the lowest of the low.

She had no consent in the matter, making it that much harder. He would have liked no better than to stay as far away from her in that state as possibility deemed. Yet at the same time, he protectively wished to bar any intimacy that his mind's eye kindled in knowing that Aragorn, and Aragorn alone, was tending to her. And so, swallowing his pride and whatever else that threatened to bubble to the surface, he offered no comment when asked to assist with the matter.

It had been less agonizing than he would have thought. Perhaps because, on some level, Aragorn and Gimli realized what it was that he was going through. Aragorn took the trouble of carrying her in that state, as well as directing Legolas to wash her arms and legs while he saw to the rest. Not only that, but it was the ranger's cloak with which they adorned her, for the sake of her modesty. It covered her easily and loosely enough to allow washing easier and less embarrassing by everyone's account. It had been a wonderful and able compromise for not only for the comatose Rem, but secretly Legolas as well. His conscience felt eased even as he partook in an activity of necessity for Rem's health.

Aside from her limbs, the only area intimately seen to beyond Aragorn's care fell to Rem's tangled locks, which were relinquished readily to the elf. The excuse of Legolas having a more gentle touch did not fool him in the least: Aragorn knew, somehow, in some way—more likely by Gimli's big mouth—that Legolas had grown considerably…fond…of the girl. Aragorn was the better skilled when it came to injury, being that he had seen more service in war. So it was natural to assume that he would take care of Rem's mortal damages. Yet by some unspoken acknowledgement of Legolas' evolving feelings, he encouraged Legolas to have a hand in at least a part of her healing. He yielded to the understandable yearning of one who would see to at least one of her wounds to ease the guilt and concern for not having prevented their happening.

Every bruise upon her skin, each weeping cut along her flesh had made his guilt that much heavier. He should have protected her…Had he kept a more careful eye on her whereabouts rather than encourage isolation after their argument, she may have never been captured.

She might not now be not staving off a fever brought on by the contamination of an arrow wound at her back. Had he merely swallowed his pride and refused to leave her to her own irresponsible devices after a silly verbal spar…then maybe…maybe…

On some level, he had realized at the time that she may have initially needed some space, as the subject of her father was indeed a sore subject. But that was no excuse for his childish handling of the matter afterwards: he had not meant to abandon her by ignoring her so far as battle broke out before he had realized her disappearance.

He had been curious after speaking at length in Lothlórien with Gimli, only to be driven away and made spiteful for something truly trivial. He would not make such a mistake again.

For whatever reason, she invoked the most irrational of emotions he had for centuries strove to keep in chains and there was no suppressing that. Yet that did not mean he was slave to those emotions and could only base un-thought out decisions because of them. No…for now on, whenever she rankled him by her speech or he frustrated her with his words they would see it through.

They would not allow minor disputes, common as they were, to bar their way from reaching an understanding. He already wanted her…but he what he really wanted was to know why…To get to know her...to have her know him. They had so much left to learn about the other… before it was too late.

"Found any other trace, Aragorn?" Gimli asked gruffly. The dwarf was bent over a sort of stew. He had been out foraging earlier, coupling some of his findings with a few of their own sparse ingredients. It was namely dried venison with roots and wild mushrooms, but without any spices it threatened to taste bland. Still, Legolas was mildly impressed by the dwarf's makeshift cooking skills. In any case, it would be something to add to their meal coupled with Lembas bread.

The ranger nodded his head. After Rem had fallen into her fitful sleep, Aragorn had noticed faint traces of the hobbits about the churned soil and dead grass as he saw to the horses. He had studied them briefly, as they had hastily seen first to the securing of a safer area for Rem's recovery.

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They would load her onto Arod, still in the embrace of Legolas' arms to prevent her from falling off. That was the decision that rode on the forefront of Aragorn's mind as he quickly rearranged some of their meager gear upon the horses. It was a miracle the girl hadn't bled to death, given that she had pulled the arrow out herself. The blood-slicked weapon that lay by Rem had not escaped his notice. Still, her flesh would have hardened and made the extraction harder later on. The extent of her injuries would be seen to just as soon as they found—A sudden thump in the grass awoke him from his thoughts.

His eyes fell to the grass, tracing over the small bag loaded with Lembas bread. He bent over, intent on retrieving the parcel. However, his attention fell away when something else caught his notice. Tracks…a disturbance of the soil…

"A hobbit lay here, and the other…" he murmured. His companions looked up, Legolas having heard his remark and Gimli curious as to what drew the elf's attention. The ranger swiftly moved forward, studying the ground with a persistent intent.

"They crawled…"Gimli stumbled to his feet, hastening to Aragorn. For a reason unknown to him, the dwarf scooped up a helmet that had obviously seen service with the Rohirrim.

Rising hope kindled Aragorn's voice.

"…Their hands were bound…." A broken length of thick rope, coiled amidst the aging grass, was immediately grasped by the ranger.

"Their bonds were cut…!" As gingerly as possible, Legolas made to rise, striving not to disturb the girl in his arms.

"They ran over here…They were followed." Heart rising in his chest, Legolas kept pace with the man and dwarf. Could the hobbits very well be alive..?! Glancing at the dwarf, he could detect a light kindled in his eye that had not burned there moments before. Aragorn's voice surged with elation and surprise.

"The tracks lead away from the battle..."Yet a shadow crossed his face, passing as a doubt through them all as they looked toward where the trail ended. "…into Fangorn Forest." The tangled, dark trees looked more than foreboding enough to have swallowed their companions whole as it loomed threateningly before them.

" Fangorn…."Gimli breathed in an awed whisper, "What madness drove them in there?"

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Much as they had wanted to plunge into Fangorn for want of an answer of the hobbits fate, they abstained for the time being. As quickly as they were able, they had ventured as far from the forest's border as they dared in keeping it in view, while remaining out of sight. It had been hours since then, during which they had bathed Rem and seen to her injuries. As soon as he was able, Aragorn had left and quickened back to the edge of Fangorn to search for more clues that might shed some light on how Merry and Pippin now fared.

Judging from the man's sobered expression in the light from the low fire, it seemed there was little else to speculate other than their entering the haunted wood.

"We will retrace their steps on the morrow then?" Legolas asked him quietly. The ranger nodded distractedly, looking into the flames as the night deepened, drowning away the last traces of a scarlet bruised twilight.

As dawn broke over the horizon, creeping past the rocks where they camped, Legolas felt loathe to leave Rem in the care of Gimli. Not to say that he didn't not trust the dwarf with his life, let alone Rem's….it was more so because he felt that he himself ought to see to her in her recovery. She had hardly eaten any of the broth Gimli had cooked up, and only swallowed water at a discouragingly slow pace when she managed to barely awake. He had little doubt she would have any memory of such brief awakenings…they were more likely brought on by her body's need for sustenance than any actual state of true consciousness on her part.

Gimli must have seen the hesitation in his eyes as they prepared to leave, and he thumped him on the back spiritedly.

"Don't you worry, ye little pointy-eared princling..." He nodded briskly toward the patiently awaiting Aragorn, " she'll be fine."

Fangorn was darker than he could have ever imagined, and the black shadows stretching from the trees were more than the empty imitations that closely followed he and Aragorn in the sunlight. No, these shadows writhed, whispered as they brushed past the dead leaves and gnarled branches of ancient vegetation. He had stopped at the feeling as it passed through him, the years of this place sweeping through him in form of awareness from this place.

"This forest is old…Very old…Full of memory," a palpable feeling surged through him, as though testifying to the awakening wood, "…and anger…" Cracking groans from the trees split open the silence around them, making both tense at the sounds.

"The trees are speaking to each other!" he murmured. They looked about them, Legolas keeping a more weather eye to their eerie surroundings as Aragorn hesitantly knelt on the ground. The living forest quieted, as though observing the two companions with hushed voices.

"These are strange tracks." He voiced aloud. Legolas had to agree. The imprints now along the ground in losing sight of those belonging to the hobbits were massive and uneven, and greatly reminded the elf of tree roots…Another sound, more subtle like the rustle of fabric, caught his attention.

"Aragorn, nad no ennas!" (Aragorn, something's out there!) Aragorn rose up quickly, following after his friend as Legolas merged deeper into some brush, straining to catch the telltale thread of a sound that might reveal the other presence.

"Man cenich?" (What do you see?) He whispered fiercely. Legolas' sharp eyes narrowed, anger leaking through his veins, coupling with a morbid satisfaction in finding Him…the one who lay more claim to causing Rem injury than any other…

"The White Wizard approaches." His voice was like oil over silk, causing Aragorn to grip the hilt of his sword at its dark promise.

"Do not let him speak." He warned fiercely, as anxiety in his tone, "He will put a spell on us." As stealthily as he could manage, Legolas notched an arrow to his bow. They took a breath…one…two…

"We must be quick…"

A rushing blast of air tore through their hair as they leapt into the small clearing, Legolas firing off his weapon only to have it effortlessly deflected by the blinding visage of the wizard. Aragorn erupted into a warcry, but it blended into one of pain as his sword heated within his grasp to burning metal that sped from his grip. The light encircling the wizard brightened, nearly stinging their eyes. And then he spoke.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits." It sounded familiar, but different all the same. Like the fragments of glass that had shattered into more than one pane only to be crushed together once again in an amplified perception.

"Where are they?" Aragorn shouted hoarsely.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone… they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" Aragorn's shock lay evident upon his face, no doubt even spreading to Legolas' own.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" In answer to his question, the light began to dim, leaving behind a most unexpected sight…

" It cannot be…" The ranger sounded as astounded as Legolas felt. Shame prickled across his skin…as the rage within quelled in knowing that he had been blinded by the desire to kill an enemy for no other reason than revenge…vengeance for Rem's sake… The appeal of the prospect had also boasted the atonement on behalf of Merry and Pippin's sake…but still…he had acted rashly…

"Forgive me!" He asked humbly, bowing low. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman." Gandalf replied pleasantly. At their questioning looks, he elaborated. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell?!" Aragorn's voice was hushed, still engrained with awe. If Legolas was honest, the shock of this had not quite left him as of yet as well.

"Through fire and water...From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth." Small fragments, conjured by the sound of his now familiarly warm voice, bled into a vision of his experiences. "Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside…Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time…Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done." He smiled, as though as some secret joke, and added as an afterthought, "…and to see that another's task is fulfilled by her hand…" That last sentiment struck Legolas as a bit odd, but he gathered it to the back of his mind for later reflection.

"Gandalf!"

"Gandalf?" he seemed somewhat perplexed by Aragorn's address of himself, but an amused smile broke out as a memory came to him from another time…another place.

"Yes... That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

"Gandalf!" Legolas could scarce breathe the syllables. The wizard nodded, a twinkle in his eyes that spoke of a secret or two as he corrected them.

"I am Gandalf the White." Legolas could not help but smile at the admission.

"..And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

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Gimli's voice assaulted their ears as they approached camp later that evening. No doubt, even in the coming dusk, their dwarf companion had sighted their return with a strange third party member.

"Comrade or captive have ye got there?" Aragorn could scarce swallow the smile that came to his face, while Legolas had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in a human gesture at their friend's blunt demeanor. Still, he quickened his pace in the blossoming hope that perhaps Rem's condition had improved.

"Has there been any change, Master dwarf?" Gandalf's voice cut through his thoughts, referring no doubt to the comatose Rem. Gimli's silhouette nearly buckled at the sound, then bounded over like a boulder set loose on a hill.

"Gandalf!" He choked, surprise painted over his shadowed face despite the growing darkness. The joyous smile that broke out across his face inspired the wizard's own. Humbly, Gimli thrust off his helmet and bowed low, almost trembling at the immense feeling of seeing one who had been thought to be dead.

"I trust you are well, Gimli?" Gandalf asked conversationally, continuing to surmount the outer hill that crested their encampment.

"Aye…well enough," he fell in step with them, leading the way back to the campfire and the slumbering girl. "Been no change as far as her stayin' awake for more'n a minute or two for some water. But that may change soon as we get her to take some stew or somethin' with more sustenance."

"I shall feed it to her," Legolas pledged determinedly, unknowing what was to be in store after such an attempt.

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A/N: A lot of past narration in this chapter, filling in the Swiss cheese of the former. Please read and review ^_^ Hugs to those who have, and to those who've put this story on their alerts and favorites ^_~

THANK YOUs

Black-Sun-567: Right back at you^_^ Yeah…Galadrial is pretty perceptive (would have to be, after living for thousands of years and all that) so she selected the most logical gift to give to a girl who undoubtedly would return Legolas' affections. That's what I figured, at any rate…lol Hope you liked this chapter!!

JGMyc: Glad I could change your mind (I'm pretty picky about the 'genre' myself) ^_^ I hope you continue to enjoy!! Thanks for the compliments—I'm trying my best!!

Tioman: Thank you ^_^ I did kind of shove that one into 'serious' pretty quickly…but I figured that a near death experience might loosen Rem up a bit…enough for her to enjoy the small satisfaction of holding Legolas' hand, at any rate ^_^

Akira Darkness: Thank you very much!!lol Let me know who the heck you quote that to…that makes me curious ^_~ Hope this chapter didn't let you too down with its humor absence (more is on the way…don't forget, she still wants to get back at Merry and Pippin from Moria…)

MaruiBuntaWorshipper: Wonderful!! (About the clarification and the fact your teacher apparently rocks…I never had one that was laid back enough to tell us that fun aspect of the infamous mathematician) Glad the chapter made you raise an eyebrow lol ^_^

Crecy: Ooh Alerts and Favs!! Thanks very much!! That's very flattering ^_^ Hope you continue to enjoy my little ficlet!!

Amadoni: Lol Thanks!! I agree with you…I'd be tempted to kick him, myself.

TheFightingTemeraire: Well thank, you!! Didn't know if anyone would notice that slight alteration ^_^ No rushing 'that' part of the story…it'll happen soon enough…making it occur too quick will spoil the whole thing (like too much salt on your rice or something…). Glad you liked the poetry/quote!! I'm a dork when it comes to Kubo-san's poetry…and unfortunately, I'm starting to run out of them…0_o Any whoo, thanks again once more for the 'play-by-play' review ^_^ Really makes me smile!! I'm with you on the 'simple' vocabulary bit…glad I'm upholding that standard! Lol Aragorn as a Nancy Drew…somehow…that just makes me picture him in a kilt (man-skirt)…At any rate, the fever seemed logical in that Rem was weakened from not only the injury/blood loss, but because of that drug the uruk-hai fed her as well…thanks again for the compliments and long review!!! Hugs to you, my dear!!!

Axel Blaze: Thank you!! Glad I'm not too predictable ^_^ And no worries, some Rem and Legolas goodness is actually right around the corner (I'm actually planning for another shove into the more physical in the next chapter) just please bear with me until then!! And I hope you don't think her purpose winds up being too corny, lol ^_^

Sonja: Thanks for the compliment ^_^ The affects of this…development…with be more apparent in the next chapter, promise!!

Mel: lol yeah, but it'll be a good thing ^_~ Who would want to be expecting on the verge of a war..? Thank you and glad you liked it as much as chapter ten!! I'm also very flattered that you're taking the time to draw 'the rant' from that chapter ^_^ Please let me know when it's ready as soon as possible—I'd love to see it!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!

Melannen Halfelven: Thanks!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!!

estrela jem: lol hope this chapter didn't disappoint, and thanks for reading!!

leahann: Glad you did!! Yes, Galadriel is sneaky…but in a good way ^_~ I'll reveal what Rem saw in Legolas' eyes in the next chapter…oh!! And thank you very much for spotting my mis-spelling of Aragorn's name…I'm a bit of a spazz when I write and post in the same day = S Lol and yeah…I would be impatient with him by now, too…Thanks again and please continue to enjoy!!

Wolfy Pup: Thank you!!

Youmaster: Thanks very much!! (hey, practical gifts can be the best kind ^_^).

MaestroHex: Thank you very much!! I'll keep posting if you guys keep reading ^_^

Blue: Lol now that would be an interesting twist….No more song called 'Nine-Fingered-Frodo' though…0_o

ShadowDmn: Happy I could make you laugh that hard ^_^ Hope this chapter didn't pale in comparison!! Thanks!

Sunshineemomix: Why thank you very much (and welcome back) lol!!

Minako: Oh, you'll see his reaction more plainly in the next chapter lol Thanks very much!!

bronsautracks: lol no, she's just way too aware….Yeah, 10th Kingdom rocks ^_^

SlyFox315: Oh, I think she knows a thing or two…^_~ Thanks very much!!

Olivier: No worries, it'll all be explained soon enough ^_^ Glad you think so, and thanks very much!!

TudeDeluxe: Thank you very much!! I hope you still think so by the time this is finished ^_^

Xaia Silversheen: Promise it'll all make sense soon enough ^_^ So no worries….And yeah, it just wasn't either of their days lol Thanks very much!!

Slywolf9: Thank you very much!!! Glad you like the adherence to the movies with some book stuffs sprinkled in ^_^ Lol and yes…poor Boromir might have died from shame (had it failed to work as a placebo or something). Happy Legolas is growing on you, too ^_^ And no worries…more chapters are sure to come!!!

Ariadne Evans: Thank you very much!! Glad my last chapter made you laugh out loud ^_^

Callisto Callispi: Why Thank you very much!! Glad you like the humor—and yes, you're probably right about Boromir…probably would have keeled over from taking it just out of shame 0_o I hope you continue to read and enjoy, and I'll do my best to uphold to your expectations—especially concerning Eowyn ^_^

rainrushingwindowpain: Lol seriously? Wow…I'm really flattered!! And I solemnly swear I will not 'up and disappear'…I get disappointed when authors do that myself _ Hope you continue to read and enjoy!! Hugs to you ^_^


	16. Awakenings

A/N: Apologies for the long delay, but the proverbial shit has been hitting the fan as of late: I'm moving out of the dorms, I'm in the midst of final exams, and my car just crapped out on me in thanks to a careless gesture at an auto place when they attempted to change the oil (since they didn't tighten my oil filter, it fried up my engine) _ So I've been getting that straightened out as well as striving to hitch rides with friends to work—so huge apology all around…But I'm sure many of you can empathize!! 0_0

So please, PLEASE tell me what you think of this chapter…I could use the uplift and the distraction!!!! Also, sorry it's rather short _

WARNING: Teeny bit of Lime content in this chapter.

Another A/N: A wonderful reader, Mel, has taken the time to draw a picture for this fanfiction: namely a particularly memorable scene in chapter ten. Legolas' expression is priceless!! Thanks again, Mel!

Everyone,please check out her lovely artwork by going to deviantartDOTcom Her artist name is Melibells, and the piece is entitled 'Can't Believe you Said That'.

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'Those who do not know what love is liken it to beauty

Those who claim to know what love is liken it to ugliness'

~Tite Kubo

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The firelight crackled and skipped merrily despite its melancholy company. Rem shifted uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on her. Well, maybe that wasn't exactly true. She stole a quick look to her right, locking eyes with Legolas. Still, while she hurriedly dropped her gaze, he casually turned his elsewhere, tending to their cooking dinner. She was probably the only one who felt distinctly uncomfortable to any such degree as comparable to sadness.

After all, she'd only just realized that she had not only managed to hurl on Legolas, but Lady Galadriel—the painfully perceptive elf that she was—had given her birth control. Sure, everyone else had been given weapons and finery—counting the golden hairs given to Gimli from her head and the belt received by Boromir…But she'd been given something to keep from conceiving. That was just twisted. The Lady of the Wood must think her loose. Her eyes widened. _Oh shit!! What if I'd actually managed to give Boromir that stuff?!!_ She could feel her face burning in a mortified blush at the thought._ If that stuff had fucked with his immunity system…!!_ A sobering thought occurred to her then. Boromir would have died in her arms.

She'd never really considered that possibility. Before, she'd been so bound and determined to make the slightest bit of difference, it never really occurred to her what it was she'd do if she had failed in the attempt. Ruefully, she admitted to herself that even if the medicine had proved to be something more than what it really was, it probably wouldn't have changed anything. Not to say that it was solely because the little good she did had yet to show any improvement to the unfurling situation that stretched before them.

No…it was more that she had no idea first hand in how to take care of extreme wounds brought on by battle. Rem was limited by experiences of removing splinters, bandaids, and the like which she herself encountered every day. At least, she used to. Grimly, she realized that she may very well have to consider trying to get a more general idea of what to do in such situations very soon. Things would only get worse, and while none of her companions were doomed to die, that didn't mean fate would take a fickle turn what with her presence mucking up the situation. Besides, maybe she could be of help to someone else…Rem guiltily thought of Aldisra, wondering if the woman she had never met was still waiting for a man whom she would never see again…Rem resolved that she would never let another woman go through the same thing; she would doubtless see battle once again, and could perhaps tend the wounded…

Flipping her mind back to its original train of thought, she nodded to herself. Yes, she needed to badger Aragorn or someone so that she could learn how to handle this sort of thing on her own. She wasn't a healer, but she sort of had a good idea of anatomy thanks to her communication disorders class…at least regarding anything above the sternum. But it was a start. Any way, she could learn. Administering elvish medicine without general knowledge to the extent of how it would affect the patient would more likely result in a step backward rather than forward. Simply pouring some strange liquid over someone's bloody-gashed skin and wrapping it up with dirty cloth was less than likely to achieve any positive or lasting results, and they would have been the extent of her abilities in Boromir's case. _Damn…_

She shifted again, stroking her skirt a bit in agitation. She was sick of being naïve…She had to take the initiative for once. And aside from winning some of the trust of her more hesitant companions, that didn't change the fact that she had no real purpose. Lórien's face briefly crossed her mind. She almost rolled her eyes._ Yeah, okay…so a purpose which I can actually understand…_That was when it hit her. Or rather, dully penetrated her subconscious as a dampening rag might suddenly realize that it was soaked; it was…her dress was…and her hair…plus, her corset was missing…_Well, that explains why I could breathe easier…_

"Um…guys?" She croaked. All looked to her, genuine interest waning in the face of tending to their previous activities. Gimli had been sharpening his axes, Aragorn his sword. Gandalf had looked up from his peaceful musing and chewing at his pipe, and Legolas hadn't ceased stirring up their porridge-like meal.

"How…uh….did …why am I clean?" She cringed at how the last part of that came out as more of a squeak. Activity immediately ceased, save for Gandalf. She suspiciously eyed the other three, who had initially stiffened guiltily.

"I should think that would be obvious." Rem glared at Gandalf without really meaning to.

"You were injured, Rem," he continued quietly, dropping some of the ash from his pipe onto the earth below. She felt her face softening as he continued, feeling kind of petty and childish the more he elaborated, "your wounds needed seeing to, or so I was told. To have left you in that state would have left you worse for wear."

"R—right…." She mumbled ducking her head. Panic was blossoming fast beneath her skin. She nodded haltingly, still feeling her face flaming in embarrassment. _Just who the fuck saw me naked?!!_ She twitched at the thought.

"T—thank you." She mumbled. While her voice sounded subdued, her mind continued racing. _Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodoh GOD. They saw…I mean… cleaned…oh, shit, this…Was it Gimli? No…Aragorn…? Legolas…_She scrunched her eyes shut, as if she had the fattest chance of blocking out that trail of thought. No good…_Okay…calm down…distraction: you need a distraction!...Did they throw away the fragments of my corest? Gah! Stop thinking!!_ Clearing her throat awkwardly, she haphazardly picked out a random topic.

"So…um…what's our next move?" Gimli snorted, as though it should be obvious. She glanced his way, prompting him to speak.

"You recover, that's your nex' move." She really did roll her eyes this time, well aware that Aragorn was trying—and failing—to smother a smile. _Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious._

"Yes, I was kind of aware of that…but…I meant afterwards. I mean, what's next?" Gandalf took out his pipe to reply, gently cleaning away the remnants of its usage as he prepared to put it away.

"We must travel to Edoras with all speed." Rem nodded, muttering to herself.

"I figured…"Her eye fell on Legolas, and she immediately gave him an owlish look. Discreetly, she scooted further away from him. He pretended to have missed the gesture, no doubt realizing that she was feeling awkward in light of what had transpired when she had not been a part of the waking world.

"We leave at first light." Aragorn supplemented. He brushed past, dropping her mended elvish cloak in her lap. It hadn't been given the best stitching job, but she was mildly impressed no less with the fact that he had apparently taken any time to attempt fixing it at all. Legolas then took the leaves that had ensconced the Lembas bread, folding them quickly and effectively into small bowls.

"After we eat…Can I take a bath…?" No one made any comment, save Gandalf as Legolas handed over her portion of supper.

"As you wish."

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_No….Nononononononononno…This can't be happening. This isn't happening. I'm still comatose. No, wait…I'm dead. That's right, the arrow hit its mark and I'm lying on the forest floor, which means I'm currently in hell. Yes sirreee…hell it is…_

"Are you to take all evening at it?" She winced at the elf's strained tone. She knew he was trying to be patient, although he was almost quite past that point. She was really pushing it. But not on purpose. Even she'd admit that to herself. However, his umpteenth sigh had begun to saw through her last nerve.

"I can damn well get my own stupid dress off!" She snapped out waspishly. Sure, it had seemed simple enough. After dinner, Legolas had led her the few yards to the private pond of sorts encroached by rocks. She'd wanted to object as his company, but she hadn't simply for the fact that making any bigger deal out of this than it really was would likely result in someone else minding her bath. Or even worse, not let her bathe at all. They had a long day coming up before them, after all.

Any way, she was a grown up, for Christ's sake. Wasn't she the one who had defiantly insisted that a vagina and penis were perfectly appropriate terms in their company before? So, nudity wasn't all that much different in that respect….everyone had their own particular…anatomy…and they shared the same shame, at any rate. Yeah, it was all just well-proportioned fat and tissue or muscle in various areas. That's all. Nothing to get excited about…And Legolas DID have his back turned…

Another sigh from said elf reminded Rem of his earlier suggestion that she allow him to aid her in the removal of her dress for her. Yeah, fat chance. In spite of any pep talk she gave herself, Rem's face was more than likely permanently stained crimson, and her skin was burning at the very idea of the implication of him slowly, delicately…

_Oh, Jesus…it's like how all of those stupid porno movies start!!_ More frantically than ever, she began scrabbling at the ties while trying not to make her still-healing shoulder twinge. It was still throbbing from her previous attempts. No go. Actually, she probably looked more like she was doing an impression of a flapping chicken than achieving any actual progress. Not good. Definitely not—

A gentle touch nearly startled a shriek from her lips.

—Good…._Gah!! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts!!_

"Let me help you…" She swallowed, feeling at a loss. What could be called a ginger caress brushed against the fabric at her back…and then, strong and calloused fingers were softly smoothing over her blushing skin as the ties loosened. _Oh dear god…_

All at once, his touch vanished, startling her enough to open her eyes. When had she even closed them…? Hugging her chest tightly to keep the sagging material from pooling too low, she nodded her head bravely as she mumbled out a disconcerted thank you.

"Not at all." He remarked arily, making her narrow her eyes at his suddenly aloof manner. _Jerk._ Listening intently as he returned to his post several feet away, and checking to see that he was indeed turned and facing the other direction, she let the dress fall. The gown had definitely seen better days. While rather clean, in part thanks to a resourceful Gimli, it was still rather worn about the skirts edges. It was beginning to fray, and there were some stains which promised to never wash out. She was unsure whether it was blood of her own or that of the orcs and uruk-hai during that nearly fatal skirmish. It didn't miss her notice that she wasn't wearing underwear…had the guys been too embarrassed to…dress her, or had the thought not crossed their mind? Or maybe there hadn't been a spare…_Best not to dwell on it. Doesn't make a difference any way…_

Clicking her tongue to herself, she shimmied completely out of her clothing and descended into the water. She was mildly surprised when she looked down and caught sight of her unclothed body. It wasn't that Rem hadn't taken a bath in so long a time that she'd forgotten what she'd looked like naked. Though granted she would admit that she longed for the time when she could bathe every day, at her leisure in a bathroom…She'd die for a shower right about now. And a pure and simple razor like the one back home, no doubt gathering dust in her closet. It was simply that she hadn't taken the time to really look at herself.

She'd toned up a bit. Not considerably, of course. But she noticed it nonetheless. _Chalk that up to wandering across Middle Earth all the time…_She mused wryly, wading into the cold water. Not sitting on one's ass all day and studying certainly was doing wonders for her physique. Still, there remained a fresco of various bruises across her skin, and her wrists still felt rather raw.

Plus, she hadn't been able to shave as of late, so she wasn't exactly feeling too full of herself in terms of appearance, here. At least her head felt better, and her shoulder didn't bother her as nearly as badly as she would have thought each time she moved. And thank the fates she was finally through with her cycle for the time being…

She cringed at the frigid temperature, her breasts immediately sensitive to the chill, and another thought penetrated her mind. _God…I hope Eowyn can lend me a corset…_She almost blushed again with the dirty knowledge that either Aragorn or Legolas had cut her own off of her. And who had removed her panties…?

Carefully slicing away the fabric, piece by piece…so as not to pierce her skin…She smacked herself in the forehead._ Stop letting your mind wander into the gutter!_ She upbraided herself anxiously. A dull splash dashed through her senses, making her turn suddenly toward shore, ducking lower into the water for the sake of whatever modesty she had remained. _What the…did he just throw a washcloth at me?_ She snatched it up with one hand, keeping her other crossed over her front to ward off curious eyes.

Legolas was facing her, but his eyes were fixated to a point just beyond her shoulder so as to retain a polite air. But that didn't stop her from noticing the way his own flesh was softly hued in scarlet. _Dear god…is he blushing…?_She licked her lips._ Just how far down does that blush go…Shit! Shitshishit!! You're bypassing the gutter and swimming in the sewer!! Bad, Rem!! _Her skin was burning in humiliation. Or possibly something else…something licking through the air, dancing across her skin at the sheer possibility of….

What?!

"Do you require any further…aid?"

"Meh…?!" She squeaked, feeling her throat tighten unforgivably around the sound. If she wasn't embarrassed before, she sure as hell was now. _Oh, dear god shoot me…shootme shootme shoot…oh, wait…too late._ She swallowed bravely, goose-bumps skating across her body. Rem wasn't completely convinced it had everything to do with the cold water swishing around her

"Wha…what do you mean, exactly?" She knew exactly what he meant. He refused to meet her eyes, but then tentatively, as though coaxingly, those stormy eyes ascended to her own doe brown. They were burning.

"I could…wash your back for you. If you…" he trailed off, the sentence hanging in the air to be eaten up by the silence. For once, he genuinely seemed at a lost for words. Now that was a sight to see.

"O—okay. Sure." She turned around, biting her lip as if the gesture could somehow build up her failing bravado. _Is he going to get naked? Is he coming in? Should I turn around? Wait…maybe he'll keep his pants on, just for modesty's sake—_His reasonable tone, smothering something deeper, brought her back to the present.

"I need you to move toward shore." Giving him a slightly quizzical look, she shuffled forward, toward the ledge he indicated. Logic then locked into her rather absent brain, as she turned her back to him once again upon reaching said destination. _Ah…I get it. Makes more sense for him to sit on dry land on an outcrop while I hang out…here…_Something rather important then occurred to her. She was going to have stop crouching.

And she was naked.

"You need to stand, Rem…" His voice was cautious, but that thick mysterious something still penetrated its thick, syrupy folds. She couldn't identify it…no, she wouldn't; an inkling within her shy and budding woman's intuition. She knew squat about men. Let alone elf-men. She'd dated once in junior high, and even then she'd only held hands and squealed like a bubble-headed loon whenever he'd try something risqué like kissing her neck…

Holding her breath, she stood, shakily. Water rushed from her torso, lapping helplessly at her hips…as deep she could possibly be. Nerveless fingers bravely offered up the wash cloth he had tossed to her, and he carefully—so as not to touch her—took it from her. Dipping it first into the water, he then began to wash her back. Languid strokes, at first making her feel somewhat queer, soon had her swaying to the rhythm and soothing presence his ministrations provided. Her eyes had long since closed, and she leaned into him. God, she could stay like this forever…

Without meaning to, she let out a little moan. She froze.

It was more of a tiny mewling sound, like a cat would use to call her kittens. Her breath remained frozen inside her lungs; a deer caught in headlights. _…Maybe he didn't hear it? _She found herself fervently praying that he hadn't. Legolas initially stilled at the sound, something within him stirring as it flowed past her lips…A mere suggestion of what she would sound like beneath a full and burning moon…

The rag slipped from his fingers, and his fingers left a hot and liquid trail up her back. They twined gently into her hair, weaving and brushing the chocolate locks into submission. His other hand, hesitating at first, reached out and touched her shoulder. A sharp inhale was his answer, and it entranced him to warmly grasp it more firmly.

Rem turned her head, to engage him and maybe kind of object. But the things she had to say, no…needed to…wanted…_I want him…_She choked on her own breath at that internal sentiment, and almost coughed. _Graceful…you're drowning in your own spit at a moment like this._ She mentally told her subconscious to shut the hell up. That was when his lips met her own, a gentle hand coaxing her face toward him.

They were soft at first, but when no resistance was made on her part, they became more demanding. Rem felt awash with numb surprise, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. She'd barely managed to have the smallest taste of him on her tongue as she opened her mouth so that he could plunder it with his own, so close to deepening the kiss, when reality marched in.

"Are ye two going to be there all eve?" Gimli's baritone ripped through their brief and private reverie like shrapnel. She heard Legolas muttering something scathingly in Elvish: probably an oath. Taking the distraction for what it was, she dunked into the water so fast that her shoulder throbbed, vigorously scrubbing at her hair.

"Almost done!" She yelled. It came out more like a shriek, as more than one emotion warred violently within her. Only one coherent sentiment seemed to be running through her brain: _Ohgodohgodohgodohgod…We just…he…oh god…_When she looked up, she almost wished she hadn't.

Legolas remained as he had been, crouching low beside the water. His stormy azure eyes had darkened, turbulent as they fixated upon her in rapt attention. There was a hunger there, but more than that, there was…something else in those beautiful eyes. A lost sort of longing…

"Almost done!" She croaked once again, and submerged in a haste of bubbles and water. He stared after her for a moment longer, then stood resolutely, turning toward whence the dwarf's voice had come to finish his watch over her from a respectable distance.

Several things passed through Rem's mind as the water rushed around her. Her stomach was doing summersaults, twisting itself into several impressive knots that didn't promise to loosen any time soon. She'd kissed him. Oh, dear gods…she'd sucked face…he'd seen her naked. And not for the first time, most likely. _Holy shit…what the hell is…That's it, I'm never coming up for air. I'll drown myself._ A tiny voice at the back of her mind told her that she was being childish about this, and that to even attempt drowning herself would be churlish in that her companions had busted their butts in trying to save her. So, she was really being unfair, here…

She mentally replied to that little voice that it could go screw itself. She was at the very least allowed to contemplate such a thing if by no other means than through a mini freak-out, here. That decided, she quietly stayed near the bottom of the pool, bubbles escaping her nose and mouth.

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A/N: next chapter: arrival in Rohan (at last!!) , with an unexpected twist!! Swear to the fates I won't take so long to update the next chapter ^_~ (Unless my new apartment catches on fire or something 0_o)

Hugs to all who've reviewed, put this story under their favorites, and posted this under their alerts ^_^

THANK YOU's

estrela jem: Thank you very much!! Hope you enjoyed this one, too!!

theartStewart20: Okay, she's awake ^_^ Apologies for the verbatim recitation, but I've been sticking to that to emphasize how little effect Rem really has in Middle Earth, even with her unexpected presence. I'll try to add as much spice as possible break up the tedium of repetition…thanks for reading!!

Olivier: Why thank you very much ^_^ Yup, he's back (but without a bottle of bleach…which he could probably use to keep his new digs white…oh well lol). Glad you liked the last chapter ^_~ And yes, (thanks for the question!!) I did dress up for the con. I was Kikyo from InuYasha and Orihime Inoue from Bleach…there are photos of me on the flickr website as Inoue…having trouble tracking down any of me as Kikyo 0_o Thanks again!!

SlyFox315: Thank you very much!!! Apologies for taking so long with this next chapter ^_~

Callisto Callispi: Hope this didn't make you wait too long ^_~ She's regained consciousness, but more interesting shenanigans will ensue within the next chapter…and did I mention more citrus? Thanks for reviewing!!

Black-Sun-567: Thanks very much!! I'll be sure to include more of his perspective in the next chapter as well ^_~ As well as a twist!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!!

Kaya Nah: Thank you very much!! Hope you didn't go into withdrawal ^_^

Mel: Thank you very much!!! Yeah, scholarly and seemingly the infinite university itself 0_o lol I'm glad you appreciated the fact that Gimli and Aragorn are aware of what's brewing between the two ^_^ Thanks once again for the lovely drawing you did!!! I'm extremely flattered you chose to do so. It's quite well done—Legolas' facial expression was priceless (made me giggle aloud)!!! Hugs to you, dear ^_^ More word candy will be on the way…

kuro-30fyre: thank you very much!

TheFightingTemeraire: Lol yeah, thanks for catching that…once again, my grammar doesn't always keep up with my typing (applies to spelling, too) ^_^ Millstones…definitely millstone reference…And yeah, poor Rem…that would be mortifying, but SOMEONE had to do it _ Ick. (grossness is a reality of life, I'm afraid. I'm just glad we have indoor plumbing -_-) So I didn't miss with the fever symptoms, hn? Good to know…I strive to be as realistic as possible (Middle Earth permitting, of course). Any critical information or such you have to comment about (especially when something seems 'off') remains to be greatly appreciated—I certainly don't know everything, and I'm grateful for the extra help! Thanks for the Lucy skit…I'm most definitely be checking that out ^_~ As far as Aragorn in a kilt, I'm tempted to have Rem make that comment to him…0_o I don't know if this story will be fifty chapters, but I am considering a sequel after rounding this one off….Thanks for the awesomely long review!!! Hugs to you!!!

elladora lestrange: Thanks!! Next update will be sooner, promise!!

MaruiBuntaWorshipper: Lol thanks….and I'd like to think that he would. Although he quite possibly wouldn't have leaned so close while doing so (and who could blame him?) Please keep reading!!

Maestro Hex: Thank you very much!! I promise I won't abandon the story; updates should once again become more frequent (schedule permitting).

lef-Marcela: you are very welcome!! Thank you for reviewing!! I'll do my best ^_^

sunshineemomix: Thanks—I try to get to reply as best I can ^_^ I'm psyched people are actually taking the time to read and review this ficlet; you guys make my day (and inflate my ego lol) I'll try to include more Gimli and Legolas POV in the coming chapters (thanks for the idea!!)…heck, I'll probably include the dwarf POV in the next chapter (now you've got my mind sparking ^_~) Hugs to you, and thanks again!!

Kiki: Yea!! Thanks very much!! Will do so again soon!!

RomanticLamb: Thank you!! Hope you continue to love it!! Will update again asap!!

TudeDeluxe: Lol Damn, you found me out 0_o Oh well…you'll probably notice that this didn't have quite a lot of action either, but in any case there are two reasons: one, so you guys won't think I've died; two, to slowly induce the gradual shifting relationship between Legolas and Rem…the tedious details can often be rather important in some cases, and I felt the need to elaborate through Legolas' perspective. And no, I'm not in a rut…life just got in the way of living (ergo my absence in updating) as I ladle out the rest of this story into appropriate portions ^_^ Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

Sirenfyre-Jade: Thank you very much!! I hope feel that way enough to continue reading and reviewing!!

Crecy: Thank you very much!! Next chapter, they'll be in Edoras (swear!!!) and the twist will rear its head ^_~ Next update shouldn't take that long, promise!! Glad you like it ^_^

Akira Darkness: Lol thanks for the free advertising!! I'm really happy that you like it that much ^_~ Next update should occur soon!!

Msmarvelfreak: Lol sorry, hope you'll forgive me for leaving that bit out since we're all well aware of the outcome. Wonder of the elder have a method of for stain removing…lol Thanks for the review!!

Slywolf9: Wow….thank you very much!! That was a wonderful review ^_^ Sorry I made you wait on the update, but I promise the next chapter is already underway!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Golfbabe87: thank you!! Sorry about the wikipedia thing, but I promise I'll spill more details in the chapter(s) to come…In order for this to work out for the idea I have in mind, I will try to be as clear as possible in what 'nine' really means for Rem ^_^ I'll be sure to include more Legolas POV, too ^_~

blacktalon: Lol yes, much more.

Browneyedreamer: Lol oops!! Sorry about that _ I'm sure my not updating didn't help, either….apologies!! Thank you very much for the compliments—I hope you continue to find entertainment in it ^_^ I'll do my best to top off the story and as frequently as possible ^_~ And no shame in being a dork—we're an awesome breed ~_~

Tioman: Thanks!! Sorry about the non attending of the con due to moving (I'd cry 0_0) Also sorry about not updating (thanks for the online message!! That was very sweet ^_^ Must be a new feature on ). But yes…alive and kicking ^_~ Life has just taken me by surprise and a few things had to be put on hold because of it, lamentably this included. But I'll be updating again soon!! Hugs to you, and thanks again!!


	17. Perchance Unknown

Disclaimer: Nothing is or ever will be mine…except Rem Eltrin ^_^

A/N: The wonderfully talented Mel has generously drawn another lovely fan art for this story!!

It's entitled 'Some Deranged Fancy' and is located under her artist profile of Melibells on Deviant Art DOT Com….It's positively delicious!!!! Go check it out!!!!

Thank you Mel!!!!!!! (And Please Draw More!!!)

Regards to whether or not this story will be continued can be found on my author's page, if there is any concern. This chapter has been re-edited 05/18/09

Now please enjoy the chapter!!

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'We fear that which we cannot see'

~Tite Kubo

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Bubbles continued to escape Rem's mouth, but she stubbornly remained along the bottom of the pool. It wasn't until her lungs were burning from lack of oxygen that she relented and emerged—with a gasp (that couldn't sound more like a walrus is she tried)—starving for air and still thoroughly embarrassed. Dripping, she slunk toward the rocks intent on wrapping herself up in her makeshift towel. Granted, it was actually just her elvish cloak. But beggars couldn't be choosers. Plus, if it didn't dry out during the night, she figured the long road to the heart of Rohan atop a horse was windy enough to resolve that issue.

She felt like her eyes would pop out of her skull when Legolas suddenly spoke her name. Hastily burrowing further into the fabric, she turned to him apprehensively, waiting. His sharp azure eyes, smoldering, groped for her own, though he made no physical move to touch her. Yet she could feel that gaze; like hot, wet fingerprints pressed against her skin.

Against her better judgment, her eyes fell to his elegant, talented hands…Rem swallowed. A beat of silence played along the outer contours of her subconscious, before she found herself wheedling into action.

"Okay! Back to camp, then…" Scrambling, she scooped up her clothes and practically jogged toward the rocks.

"Rem!" She stumbled upon hearing him speak her name again like that. Against her better judgment, she stopped, waiting.

"Rem, you…" She squeezed her eyes shut, her back facing him. _Oh god, don't say it…please don't say…_

"…are heading the wrong direction." Dumbfounded, she turned, watching as he gestured gracefully in the opposite direction of where she was heading, "camp lies that way." She felt ten times an idiot. Her cheeks suffusing with color, she hastily began marching once more.

"I—I knew that! I was just going over here to…uh—change. Change into my clothes. I'm clean now, right…?" _Yeah, smooth, Rem._ Cringing, she wandered behind a particularly large boulder and set about doing just that. Well, she attempted it, at least. It would seem that putting one's clothes on was twice as hard as removing, which meant—

_No!!_ She fumed, frantically wringing the fabric as if to convince it to cooperate. _No way is this happening!! This is too fucked up on way too many levels!!_ Much to her horror, Legolas' voice cut through the darkness, slicing through it steadily like a knife. He was way too calm for what had just transpired—at least in her opinion.

"Have you any need—"

"No! God damn it, no!" She shrieked, sounding a bit more hysterical than she really wanted. Everything would be fine. It was fine. All she needed to do was press her arm against her side while sleeve was on and…

"Fuck!" She gasped. A jarring pain lanced through her shoulder at the trouble. Nausea resulting from the excess of anxiety tingling along her nerves skipped down her spine, and her face was no doubt a vivid scarlet. Her stomach then doubled back into a summersault in the next instant: at the blatant sound of the elf's approach.

He was, no doubt, troubling himself to arouse such noise in order to warn her of his coming. _Noble jerk!!_ Frantically, she squeezed the fabric close and whipped around, intent on dismissing his offer of help. He sighed, the sound holding a note of frustration. Well, so the fuck what? It couldn't hold a candle to how _**she**_ felt. Not by a long shot. But then he spoke.

Sort of.

Suddenly he was there, and he grasped her by the shoulders as if to face him, but then whipped her around with such a gentle and quick motion there was no doubt in Rem's mind that the elf had some capabilities as an acrobat.

Before any embarrassingly naughty ideas from such an observation had time to swim through her thoughts, he had already stroked her hair aside and set about re-lacing the dress at the back. The deft movement of his nimble fingers ever so often brushed erratically against her bare skin, almost violent in their movements. Yet his ministrations never ceased to be careful. Still, the electricity of his heated skin against her own, even in such small increments was beginning to make her head spin at the promise of such close proximity.

"Why must you insist on being difficult?" he murmured quietly. She had no reply. Breathing was kind of taking up all her focus at the moment.

"You're one to talk."

That certainly didn't last long.

Surprisingly, he didn't rise to her bait. With a sinking feeling beginning at the pit of her stomach, Rem worried that on some level or other that the elf somehow knew; that she was intent on distracting him from noticing…from noticing everything by picking up the threads of an irrelevant argument.

Every punishing touch of his skin against her own betrayed her feelings with every subtle inhale and small twitch emitted at the contact. It gave him some slight satisfaction...but not nearly enough. The girl was infuriating. She seemed more intent on running away than finishing what she had started…Even now, he could sense her desire…her hesitation. He finished off with a final jerk, tying off the ends.

He paused, smoothing her hair slowly back into place to hide that deliciously inviting curve at the back of her neck. She was impossible… How often had she declined his assistance when it was in fact needed? By now, it had occurred more times than he cared to admit; and what was more: he did not quite understand why. It was obvious that she wanted him, as much as he did her. Her physical reaction bespoke no less of what it was she wanted…needed. But for some strange reason, she resisted. He had hoped that they were past denial: she had even held onto his hand upon waking…holding it soft as any paramour.

He was tempted to reach out and…But he wouldn't. He swore to himself he wouldn't. Much as he wanted to tease her in retaliation for avoiding him as of late, he would not string things along so far through jest. His forceful volunteer of unwanted aid would have to satisfy for now. And whatever rejection of truth she continued playing at would surely end sooner than later.

"If you ever need help…" his hand delicately placed itself upon her shoulder, as he breathed close to her ear, "you should ask for it, Rem." She nodded jerkily, bending down to retrieve her cloak as much as to be out of his reach. She crossed her right arm against her chest at the movement, inwardly cursing the fact that she was no longer…supported properly. She was secretly terrified of having something…fall out. But she'd happily keep that bit to herself. This could also be in reference to other unclothed areas.

Not having undergarments, she realized dismally, was turning out to be a bitch. And the ride to Edoras, no doubt, would not dissuade this. Color blossomed across her cheeks for the umpteenth time that evening, and she quietly prayed to who or whatever might be listening that her companions—especially Legolas—would remain unaware of these…not so miniscule details. Emphatically, a decision made, she folded her elvish cloak determinedly and carried it close against her chest with crossed arms.

The sky, streaked with dimly lit clouds, coiled into nothingness as the sun dipped below the horizon and they made their way back to camp.

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Dawn arrived much too quickly for Rem. It wasn't that she'd hardly slept. Rather, she'd slept like a log. It was simply that she had in no way been prepared to once more face the issues sleep had barred from her immediate thoughts. In waking up with reality crashing down around her, Rem wasn't altogether positive she was motivated enough to remain so. Especially after what had happened last night…She shivered at the memory.

His lips against her own, his heated skin pressed against her own in a yearning promise as his mouth cherished her…devoured her…She couldn't look him in the eye. She wouldn't. Hell, she couldn't look Gimli in the eye, either. She had a sneaking suspicion that the dwarf was more than likely aware of something transpiring between the two due to the fact that, out of the remaining fellowship, he was her closest companion. She only crossed her fingers and hoped to god that he didn't figure out what had occurred exactly. His shouting during the…bathing incident…had been way too coincidental for her to believe him a completely oblivious bystander.

Aragorn and Gandalf didn't seem all that innocent by her standards either, but that could just be paranoia. Since they made no comment around her at all and made no attempt at idle conversation, she figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Any way, surely romance to any degree involving her and…well, they hardly seemed aware of anything but their own business at the moment. By her reasoning, she need only avoid both the elf and the dwarf for the time being like the plague...Until her thoughts fell into place and she could figure out where it was she would go from here…wherever that was. Seemed simple enough.

At least in theory.

While she had presently managed to sandwich herself in stride between Aragorn and Gandalf, she was forced to book ass in order to keep the brisk pace they had set. She was also secretly striving to keep the semblance of a respectable distance between herself and the elf. Yet even that wasn't turning out quite right. She would swear that, every so often, she could feel those burning, stormy eyes pinioned to the back of her head. At least she hoped it was aimed at her head. She was kind of worried his gaze might be aimed somewhat lower…like at her ass.

Not that she was going to turn around and check. No way. Not wearing underwear was bad enough; she refused to dwell on it. Much.

To make matters worse, she highly doubted the dwarf was thick enough not to realize that she was artlessly dodging any attempt he had made thus far at conversation. It was probably hurting his feelings…Even if he had as of yet not given any real indication of such a thing. But his words and commentary had as of late become more and more one-sided. And as much as she was fond of him, it was slightly annoying.

A small part of her…traitorous in all of its logic, asked herself why she was bothering to maintain such a charade at all.

Her feelings, after all, were more than likely transparent to Legolas; or else why had he kissed her…when she was naked in a pond, no less? She hastily told herself to cut that line of thought. She wasn't one for confrontation. At least those of a romantic nature. Those kinds of…things…threw her for some reason or other. Maybe it was because she hadn't dated much.

Just because she was as curious as any other healthy female didn't mean she did not have her own personal hang-ups about sex. First, there was the minor detail that she had never been in love before. Ever. At least not the kind of thing poets aspired to convey through writing and songs warbled about on the radio. Flirting, while it wasn't quite second nature, wasn't really all that hard. But she still found it kind of tedious…and complicated. Especially since she had been pretty serious about hitting the books; not having much of a social life helped, too.

Besides that, she was hesitant to have ever taken that second step in a relationship with someone she didn't feel a connection with right away. On some level, she realized that she was rationalizing being a coward: that some knight in shining armor wasn't about to come knocking on her door. She knew that. She just…felt like she had a lot of other responsibilities to deal with. Any way, if she did ever get close enough to considering doing…that…who's to say he wouldn't up and leave afterward? Like her father had done? Like the fellowship would do, once the quest was over and done with. It had crossed her mind more than once that Gandalf would likely leave her in Gondor once this was all over…or maybe some other neighboring city.

If she survived, of course.

Just because the Valar insisted she had a purpose didn't mean she would live through it. Gollum came to mind.

She realized she had issues, particularly with abandonment, in the relationship department. But so the hell what? There were worse things than not having your knight show up. Such as him showing up after a certain elf prince was done with her…

_Okay, stop that train of thought._ She sighed, aware that she wasn't really being fair. She had no idea of what his intentions were as of late. While it was a relief that they seemed to be moving forward in their regard for one another…this hadn't exactly been what she had in mind. Well, maybe at the very back of her mind, if she were honest. They guy was gorgeous, after all…

But it had come to her, maybe right after she had been mortified about throwing up all over him, that something had changed. Yet everything had remained the same. They still knew nothing about one another…not really, anyway. He now knew a few random facts about her, but she still didn't know much of anything about him.

Had she not been kidnapped and almost fatally wounded, maybe things would have evolved on their own. Maybe she wouldn't have clung to his hand, and his eyes wouldn't have softened. And maybe his current pursuit in trying to aid her wouldn't include an intimacy that hadn't been there before. She had never been comfortable with his help, even while in the mountains and nothing had been admitted. Now that things were…more in the open…she was afraid. Upon reaching what she figured was more or less a broken bridge, she was fighting the choice to take chances in crossing over the dangerous looking water.

That was her justification at the moment. She had no inkling as to where she ought to go from here…or where Legolas would want to take this…whatever it was. She didn't guess she knew the exact guidelines of courtship. Rem couldn't recall Tolkien actually covering that anywhere in the text.

All she knew right now was until this almost painfully transparent situation blew over, she was damn well going to do what she could to blend into the woodwork. Or Fangorn, as it were. At the very least, she needed to think…

Which would be a fucking load easier if Legolas stopped staring. _What the hell is there to stare at, anyway?!_

"The air is so close in here!" Gimli grouched for the umpteenth time. Rem kind of wanted to throw a rock at him. He'd been complaining of the forest for quite some time nonstop. The fact that this aged forest reminded her of decaying, crotchety old men more than growing things was creepy enough with the turn her thoughts of late had taken; being reminded every few minutes by her companion certainly wasn't allowing her mind to wander off about different things.

Every so often, groans would creak and crack in the wooded darkness.

They seemed to stretch after them as they passed: reaching out as if with angry, gnarled hands to the envy of the ancient tree branches. The first time she'd heard it, Rem had leapt about a foot in the air. She'd then berated herself for reacting that way: she ought to have expected it. Still, at least no one had made a big deal of her reaction. Not to say she hadn't earned some curious glances, but no one said anything. Though she could have sworn Legolas might have chuckled. _Bastard. _

Sunlight then rudely scraped through the cloistering branches, letting them know of the clearing up ahead. A meadow opened up before them, dry and colored like wheat. Rem let escape a grateful sigh as they crept into it by leaving behind the bowing trees. All at once, a hauntingly piercing whistle struck through the air, no doubt from Gandalf's lips. As if from nowhere, a stallion trumpeted up like a streak of lightening.

"That is one of the Mearas," Legolas breathed, some of his enchantment crossing over through Rem, "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." She had to admit, that was most definitely one hell of a horse.

"Shadowfax." Gandalf stroked the creature warmly, respect coiling between the two within the very air, "He's the lord of all horses and he's been my friend through many dangers."

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Wind whipped through her hair, tangling it in a breeze of chestnut and brown in the sunlight. Hasufel galloped along at a breakneck pace, although he remained always behind Shadowfax. Arod fared no better; it would seem the lord of all horses had a title well-earned, among other things. Though, to be fair, Rem understood that he was merely carrying a wizard while the other two steeds had two passengers apiece.

Rem hunched forward bravely, arms locked around Aragorn's abdomen fiercely. She had been right: riding without undergarments was indeed a bitch. Despite the fire felt along her bruised skin, which was taking its time to heal, she clung like a leach. Every now and again, her shoulder would lance with pain, but she held gamely on.

Sure, at first she had been loathe to cling to Aragorn…especially in pressing herself against him to quite a degree. But the pain of…bouncing around soon changed her mind. Not only that, but she rationalized that it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. _On Arwen!!_ She amended her thoughts hastily. _Although…there's a good chance he helped bathe me, too…_ Throwing in the proverbial towel, she rolled her eyes at herself. She couldn't possibly be feeling any more stupid at the moment.

Except earlier.

She had all but launched herself onto the horse in the first place; she had swiftly volunteered to be paired with the ranger in riding to Edoras. Dense as she was at times, Rem hadn't missed the look exchanged amongst her companions at the choice. Gandalf seemed the only one unconcerned in the matter, either because he was well aware of something or because he really simply didn't care either way. She had a sneaking suspicion it was more likely the former. Yet admittedly, she couldn't honestly tell.

She gasped again, a particularly rough patch of earth causing the horse to jostle her soundly. In retaliation, she clung harder. _I need horse riding lessons!!_

"Rem!" Aragorn's voice sounded strained as it leafed through the cutting wind, "Ease up a bit, you won't fall!" She winced, imagining the sore ribs she was undoubtedly giving him. She loosened her grip a bit, shouting back enough to be heard.

"…Sorry!" However, another particularly hard jump made her squeeze him once again, possibly twice as hard. _Fuck that, I'd kill for a bra. _The rapidly escaping scenery blurred before her eyes, making her miss her glasses just a teeny bit; were she wearing them, she would be spared some of the lashing wind at her face. Hasufel continued to gallop beneath her, making something else painfully transparent to her subconscious. _And panties…I'd kill for those, too…_

Minutes bled into hours, soon bringing relief to a long day by bleeding the ending daylight into splashes of yellow, mahogany and deep purple. Red lined the clouds in a ruby array, but the complete loveliness of it all was quite lost on Rem.

She had never been so freaking sore in her life. _I didn't even know I had this many muscles in my body!_ Miserably, she stretched atop the saddle, biting back a shriek as she nearly slid off. Had she been riding sidesaddle, gravity probably wouldn't have been as kind. Aragorn had just dismounted, and at the muffled sound of her, turned back around to assist her. Biting her lip nervously, she scooted closer to the edge, hesitating.

"When you're ready, Rem." She smiled nervously, abashed.

"Yeah…sure…" Taking a deep breath, she lunged, allowing momentum to take its natural coarse as she fumbled for the stirrup—missing it entirely. She nearly slammed her head into Aragorn's, topping off her humiliation for the night.

"Yeek! S—sorry! I didn't mean…" As gently as possible, hardly betraying a groan from the damage she had caused of late, he murmured for her ears alone.

"Perhaps…you should ride Arod tomorrow." He walked away from her, missing her telltale reaction. Hasufel was undoubtedly Aragorn's horse…from what she could tell, any way. So that meant he was insinuating that she…Rem's traitorous eyes trailed toward Legolas, who at the moment had not yet caught her stolen glance. His eyes, all the more electric in the fading light, had her hurriedly dropping the gaze.

The evening turned, deepening as they settled upon the plains of Rohan to rest. They were making good time, in her opinion. Still, Gandalf seemed slightly less than satisfied with their progress; most likely because the situation with Théoden was indeed urgent.

No flicker of expression crossed Legolas' beautiful features in the firelight. He pensively looked on into the flames, barely paying any mind to his Gimli and Rem, who had turned in for the night. Gandalf sat at the edge of their campsite, and as the minutes passed, Aragorn arose to join him.

Legolas watched him as he left, but made no move to leave from where he was. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Rem taking in his visage once more, snatching her gaze away before she thought he could see. Her wide, almond shaped eyes were a warm brown in the dying light of the fire. Her hair was the richest color of earth as he had ever seen it, reflected by the shadows and blending into the darkness of her meager blanket.

She was doing her best to avoid him, no matter the context. Despite the fact it was meant for a private ear, Legolas had nonetheless overheard Aragorn's comment that she ought to ride with him on the morrow. A part of him dreaded such a thought…Because he had readily noticed how painfully sore his friend was after such an ordeal. She might have even bruised a few ribs. Still, the other part of him yearned for such a thing.

And why should he not? Attraction had not waned for him, and to have her pressed against him…would surely be worth any amount of hurt she caused, in the end. Not just physically. Her latest persistence in keeping away from him was starting to wear at his patience. His emotions felt strained as well.

Whether within the mines of Moria or beside the darkness of Fangorn, she persisted in being mercurial in his offer of help. He had first assumed that it might be pride, given that she was rather strong-willed. But now, he was quite unsure of where this continual refusal stemmed. She was fearful, but of what exactly he wasn't positive. Perchance her resurgence of irrational behavior in regard to the matter only bothered him more now because things had shifted. Maybe not completely, but substantially enough for real change; she herself had initially reacted in such a way upon first waking: she had sought his hand…She had returned that kiss…

Why she would choose to run from such a thing now was nothing short of being upsetting. Rem had once mentioned, while within the wood of Lothlórien, that she could be trusted; that she was sick of their arguing. It would seemed, however, that such a thing had not yet been extended toward him on her behalf. Despite any admission, her actions bespoke some level of distrust. No matter their situation, it inevitably drew into a verbal spare because some line had been crossed. Dimly, he recalled Gimli's words, concerning the girl's father. In light of that… he supposed that he could understand.

She retained much from her previous culture, wherever it was. This place was strange to her, and perhaps would always be so. It had been less that half a year, and it would stand to reason that more time was needed before she felt comfortable enough to rely on others without shame.

Also, when one thought about it, it was doubtless that she harbored any experience...not that he was any better. He perchance had a better idea of things, but certainly not from anything first-hand. His own familiarity of love had stemmed from a situational accident, and the second one to misfortune…A part of him, however small, now worried over this potential third—and with a mortal, no less. The shortcomings he had seen in her were melting away in light of her attributes. What he had once contributed to nothing more than an infatuation had blossomed into something more without trying to nourish it. The distraction of her presence only grew by the day, especially when she was not by his side…as her kidnapping had shown.

He sighed, wearily, resigning himself to looking up at the night sky as he awaited dawn. Fatigue was far from his mind, just as he wished the haunting footsteps of his past could be.

Unbeknown to Legolas, Gimli quietly watched them both, sleep taking him unawares.

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She buried her cheek against his shoulder, holding on tight. If she had felt self-conscious in pressing herself against Aragorn, it was nothing compared to how she was feeling now.

Awareness tingled along her nerve endings, and the prickling felt along her skin testified more in how she felt about the elf's proximity than how cold she actually was. The spicy warmth of him, flush against her curves, was beginning to give her naughty thoughts, in spite of her best efforts. A distinctly feminine part of her found herself idly wondering how he felt about having her breasts pressed against him. She cut that train of thought before it could expand beyond that. Instead, she focused on remembering all of the American presidents in electoral order; an ingrained lesson from eighth grade history class.

_Cleveland, Harrison, Cleveland…wait...how many Clevelands? Okay, McKinley, T. Roosevelt…_

The wizard's voice interrupted the inane recitation, causing her to peak over the crest of Legolas' shoulder at his words. The smudge along the horizon earlier that morning proved indeed to be a city, or a rather grand village at least.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown…" A grim note dropped into his tone, "Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong…" Rem swallowed, hugging Legolas close. Recoiling at the self-inflicted gesture, she launched once again into her listing, squeezing her eyes shut furiously.

_Tyler, Polk, Taylor…crap, I already said those!_

"Be careful what you say," he called once more, iron in his tone, "Do not look for welcome here."

In mere moments, They passed through the gate. Now that they had slowed their pace considerably, Rem eased her grip, taking in their surroundings. No matter where she looked, somber folk drably dressed in black stared back. It was really disconcerting.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli muttered from behind Aragorn. Rem had to agree. But she couldn't stop taking it all in: these, after all, were the first people—humans— she had yet to see in Middle Earth; Aside from Aragorn and Boromir, of course. However, their hollow and dirty faces certainly weren't heartwarming.

In looking up at the battlements that crested the entry way of Théoden's golden hall, a flash of white caught her attention. A woman watching their progress; stark in her contrast to the unraveling decay that lingered about this place. Rem stared, her throat tightening in seeing Éowyn for the first time.

As if sensing her gaze, her sharp eyes turned to Rem. They locked eyes for a moment, before the daughter of kings, her eyes like pebbles wet with rain, retreated back inside.

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Dismounting was easier this time around, possibly because she had a better idea of what not to do. However, in regaining her footing, Legolas refused to let go of her arm. This alarmed her to some degree, which must have shone on her face. He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward their stone-faced audience.

"…Do not stray from my side."

"…!"

She didn't really know what to say to that. _What the hell is he implying?!_ That was when she realized how closely they were all being watched, as the rest of their companions moved to ascend the stairs. The elf's wary gaze capture hers once more, grip relaxing as he turned them both in the direction to follow.

"…Just humor me." It was said dryly, ending any chance of further discussion. He would not look at her again, his focus on their immediate surroundings. Remembering where they were, she could hardly blame him. Giving herself a hard mental slap, she trailed after him, a falsely brave front leaving her with a determination in her step.

She stumbled on the second to last stair, swearing quietly. Hopefully, no one heard. First chance she got, she was raiding the armory for pants and a shirt…right after she filched undergarments. Rem braced herself, taking care to leave her expression as neutral as possible.

To her left, Gandalf could be seen heavily leaning onto Aragorn, a delighted breath leaving him as the main guard approached. He took in their appearances, notably befuddled upon espying Rem. She figured it was rather unusual for a woman to travel, here. That, or she desperately needed another bath.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame." His tone was apologetic, and there was a telltale hint of shame in his next sentence, "By order of… Gríma Wormtongue."

Gandalf nodded, as if in understanding of such things. He then nodded brusquely , signaling for everyone in their party to surrender their weapons. Giving her a lingering look—perchance in warning—Legolas released her arm and set to the task. Several of the soldiers looked to her curiously, as though they seriously expected her to whip out a knife from under her skirts. Half of her was sorely tempted—if only maybe to shake them up a bit. She figured they kind of deserved it, what with staring at her like that. It was making her nervous.

Legolas patted her arm, drawing her attention; indicating that she ought to take his arm in the manner of a lady and escort. Shrugging, she complied. Reluctantly, they awaited what was to come next. The guard, who—if memory served correctly—was named Háma, then gestured to Gandalf.

"Your staff."

"Hmm?" Gandalf glanced at the one in question, snow white and elegant in its decoration. He then leaned heavily against it, pulling an empathetic face. "Oh, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The complete innocence with which it was said had Rem fighting back a smile. She had to hand it to him: the wizard could be quite an actor.

Unsure for but a moment, Háma then gestured that they follow him with the remaining guard into the hall. Behind his back, he missed the tiny wink Gandalf aimed at Aragorn, on whose arm he held. A small smile kindled on the lips of Legolas at the action; Gimli's beard probably hid all evidence of his own.

The shadows of the hall were stagnate compared to the bright white of outdoors, and it took a second for Rem to take everything in. Hostility and decay breathed along the very hall, and it did not escape Rem's notice that a group of brutish looking men were matching them, step for step outside the main corridor. The aged stones of the floor and honeyed, rich colors of banners and carved wood looked melancholy in this atmosphere.

Her gaze pushed past all this, their steps echoing along the floor, catching sight of…well, a king who looked for all the world like a dried up and crusty sandwich; one that might have been peanut butter, but had sat in the sun too long and started to mold. Along side of him, a greasy, water-rat of a human being in dark robes murmured in his ear. Rem felt her flesh crawl as his pale eyes cast toward them. The guy looked like he had crawled out from under a rock.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf's hearty voice, raised in octave, sounded about them. They all dropped back a few paces, allowing the wizard forward.

"…He's not welcome." Rem heard Gríma murmur. A dry wheeze, like sandpaper, breathed past the lips of the tired-looking Théoden.

"Why should I… welcome you, Gandalf… Stormcrow?"

"A just question, my liege." Gríma purred. He then turned, slithering toward Gandalf much like a snake that senses pray. _Guess that makes Mithrandir a mongoose._ Rem mused inwardly.

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell spell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest!"

" Be silent!" Gandalf snapped, iron in his tone, " Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" To make good on the promise that it was no mere idle threat, he raised his staff toward Gríma.

"His staff!" He moaned shrilly, backing away from Gandalf while addressing the guards, "I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

Superciliously, in Rem's opinion at least, the brutish looking gang then leapt toward them, intent on bloodshed. Legolas grabbed her then, forcing her behind him in the wake of battle. Nervously, she stumbled back, knowing better than to argue. A fistfight broke out, hedging around Rem in order to protect her.

More words were spoken, but she was finding it difficult to pay attention. Especially when someone grasped her hair. Reacting on instinct, she kicked out behind her, catching whoever it was in the groin. _Lucky me—no codpiece!_ She caught Legolas' momentary stare, wincing at her actions before resuming skillfully executed movements. Rem nearly rolled her eyes. _Right, like I've got any other choice…_ She then spun around quickly, thanking god that she was flexible enough to dodge and weave, if nothing else. She tripped another guy by kicking him in the back of the knee, skirting around him hurriedly.

Noise tapered off, and everyone fell back. A eerie laugh, croaking from the back of what Rem doubted was Théoden's throat, pierced through.

"…You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" As if provoked, Gandalf threw back his grey cloak, exuding blinding white light. Rem squinted at her companions, realizing how vividly bright blue Legolas' eyes were at the intensity of it. Théoden was thrown back against the wood of his throne so that it groaned in cracking protest. His cry was drowned out by Gandalf, power dripping thickly as syrup in how he spoke.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." A rustling sound, brushing fabric, made Rem turn. Éowyn had rushed in, and taking in the scene, and launched herself toward her supposedly threatened uncle. However, Aragorn was quicker, holding her back as he whispered urgently.

"…Wait."

"If I go. . . Théoden dies." That voice…a chill ran through Rem's blood. She had heard it before…while in the depths of her nightmares. Was it Saruman…? Reacting quickly, Gandalf moved his staff in a sharp gesture, causing Théoden to thwack painfully back against the chair once more.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" he grit out harshly.

"Rohan is mine!"

"Shut up!" Rem shrieked. Several turned to look at her, but she didn't notice. Because white hot fear was lacing up her spine as the possessed king caught sight of her, as if for the first time. Something lit up, like a blackened fire, within those strange eyes.

"…Rem…"

She thought she was going to throw up. She certainly felt the bottom drop out of her stomach at the sound of her name. Someone grabbed her from behind. She struggled, albeit weakly. Her knees had turned to water. But when she looked down, she recognized those arms. She sagged against Legolas in slight relief, anxiety still gnawing at her from the inside.

"Be gone!!"

Théoden lunged, but whether it was at Gandalf or herself, she wasn't quite sure. The only thing she was completely sure of at the moment was that she was more than likely going to have a nightmare about this later on.

The king slumped forward, weighted down from the broken, harrowing spell. Éowyn rushed forward to her uncle's side, catching his shoulder in desperation. Théoden slowly raised his head, the years seeming to melt away. He now resembled less like a sandwich, and more like the king that he might have been. Clarity and recognition returned to his eyes, making Rem feel slightly more at ease. Still, Legolas made no move to loosen his grip, and she did not complain.

He looked now toward his niece, as if nothing else existed in all the world, " I know your face." He breathed quietly, "Éowyn… Éowyn…" Tears glittered within her eyes, and she wept in joy.

"Gandalf…?" The wizard smiled, speaking pleasantly.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." The hall almost looked brighter, and the soldiers looked awed at the change in their king. However, much of this was lost on Rem…as a few of the guards gave her skittish glances she couldn't help but receive. There was undoubtedly a stupid expression on her face.

Théoden stood, his words full of regret and wondering, "Dark have been my dreams of late." His hands trembled, and he looked to their betrayal of his perceived frailty.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better" Gandalf cajoled, "... if they grasped your sword." Háma rushed forward with proffered blade, offering it to his king with hope kindled in his face. Théoden reached for it with trembling hands, his will lending him the necessary strength. He wrapped his fingers around it slowly, as one might savor a beloved's touch, and then drew it. His gaze could not be torn from the shiny steel.

At least until his eyes fell to Gríma…

That was when it happened…

Or rather, when Rem finally looked up from her consistently transitional stare from that of the king and the throne room's floor stones. A man, dressed in soldier's garb, with a chillingly familiar face. He stepped out from the others, his dark brown eyes holding fast to her own. All color was draining from her face. _Not possible…This isn't possible…he looked different…_

"…Rem?" She felt Legolas tighten his grip, aware that she might very well faint.

"…!?" Alarm spread across his familiar face, and he hurried forward. She unconsciously huddled against the elf's strong arms, willing him to move away.

"It's Rem…isn't it?" She couldn't speak. She didn't know what the say. She was going to be sick…she could feel it crawling up her throat. Her heart was pounding way too fast. Legolas gently stepped away, ushering her behind him as he regarded the man who stood before them. He didn't know what the make of this. Still, he had similar features to Rem…so much in fact, that he could guess that they were related in some way…But that would be impossible.

"…Who…who the fuck are you?" Trust Rem to find her voice in that manner. His eyes swept past Legolas' and alighted upon the young woman, an unidentifiable look entering his eye as he answered the rudely phrased inquiry.

"I am Ansel, son of Eorl." Her eyes widened.

"You're…?!"

"I am your brother." He supplied calmly.

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A/N: okay, so hopefully that wasn't a let-down. Especially with no lemons or limes…But keep a whether eye out for the next chapter: kisses and angst, guaranteed!! Just please be patient for the time being.

I Apologize whole-heartedly for not replying individually to all of your wonderful reviews.

THANK YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They have all been extremely flattering, and each has helped me strive to keep this story on track. So please keep up reviewing—especially the ones hosting an inquiry, a correction, or an opinion. Making me think helps keep this story on track!!

I'll return to replying to everyone just as soon as I pass this class— I'm pressed for time (until the 29th) and would like to see to writing and posting chapters as a priority.

I'm sure you might agree that's best—especially if you want me to get to the lemon sooner than later…

HUGS TO ALL!!!! And please keep reading and reviewing!!! I love to hear from you!!!!


	18. United

Disclaimer: No profit is or ever will be made since it doesn't belong to me.

A/N: I got out of class early today, so I fired this out as quick as I could. Apologies about it being short, but I figured more of an explanation regarding Ansel and Eorl were in order...Please enjoy!!

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'If I were rain

That joins sky and earth

That otherwise never touch

Could I join two hearts as well?'

~ Tite Kubo

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She stared at him from across the table, feeling decidedly numb. This all felt too surreal: Less than an hour ago she had been an only child. Yet the man sitting across from her mirrored her fath—no, their father to such an extent, that she had taken him for Eorl at first glance. She shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the table grain.

Soldiers, along with a small collection of servants, were bustling around them. Every so often, a few of them would glance in their direction. Shortly after throwing Gríma—quite literally—out of the king's house, a painful realization had been made by Théoden. His son, Théodred, was dead. Apparently, Saruman's spell was so absolute, that he had been barely aware of that which had actually occurred and was had merely been a nightmare. As such, preparations for a proper funeral were only now being seen to. Rohan's prince would be buried before the sunset on this day. Rem couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Too much was happening all at once.

Leaning against a pillar with his arms folded in a nonchalant demeanor, Legolas took care not to observe them too carefully. He was doing his best to give Rem whatever privacy was needed. This had evidently been quite a shock to her. But that did not mean he as of yet trusted the young man—Ansel, entirely. Rohan was a strange place to them, no matter if she did have kin residing here. They were strangers to another, for the most part. As such, he felt it best if he remained close, like a sentinel, for the time being. Rem, surprisingly, had brooked no argument in the matter; although she was aware of his presence. She in fact looked rather lost. It reminded him of the time she had first come to Rivendell…But had it been the first time she had come to their world…?

Ansel cleared his throat, leaning forward. Rem flinched at his touch, but didn't move her arm. His smile was hesitant…just like Dad's. He moved back his hand, propping up his chin as he studied her.

"You look quite a bit like him." He said it offhandedly.

"You're one to talk." She fired back. His eyes widened, but the smile returned. He shook his head.

"Still…I suppose in many ways, you favor your mother." _Probably a polite way of saying I've got my mom's temper. _ She looked at him then, taking in his visage. Brown eyes, nearly twins to her own; blond hair, thick and almost weathered enough to remind her of sand. He even sported the goatee—only much smaller—than Eorl's. A complete bear of a man: tall and robust with an attitude that could shift from a laid-back humor to a pensive seriousness at the drop of a pin.

"How…Why is it you know about me, but I've never even—" he cut her off gently, leaning back slightly as though in wary anticipation of her reaction.

" I was seven years when he left," he put simply. Rem stared. _He's…he left behind a string of children in his wake?_ She swallowed, nausea pinching at her insides at the revelation. At what she thought she now knew.

"That's sick." He glanced at Legolas, but turned his stare back to her. Contemplating her words before he elaborated further.

"Well, that depends."

"On what?" He flexed his hand; they both looked at it as he let it rest once more on the table. He took a deep breath.

"Eorl was born…in 2962," she blinked.

"Okay." _What does that have to do with anything?_

"He was wed to my mother, Arleigh, in 2992…I was born a year later." She nodded, still unsure what exactly he was getting at. But the fact that he had been married to someone other than her mother made her stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"…he was not often home. My mother often wondered about that…and I too, had my theories…" he paused, gathering his thoughts. "After today, Saruman's treachery is no longer to be speculated. He has turned against us…and his search, for the elvish weapon, was what undoubtedly began it all." She fought to keep her expression neutral: brother or not, it wouldn't due to him to know of the true whereabouts of the One Ring. Still…she hesitated.

"What do you mean, 'began' exactly…?" He gave her a meaningful look, and leaned close as he lowered his voice.

"Rumor grew…warning us of the White Wizard's actions. I fear that what was taken at the time to be no more than idle gossip proved to be right. It was mentioned to an effect that he was searching for something...the weapon, I'm sure. I can only guess that such a task would require many in his employ…" Rem blanched.

"You're telling me, that Eorl actually _helped _Saruman?!" her mind was reeling at the thought. Always, when he had spoken to her while narrating the story, his tone of voice had darkened, somehow remote and full of disgust whenever it crossed over the wizard's name. As a kid, she had merely thought he was giving character to the story by giving a more dramatic narration of the villains. Ansel nodded, slowly. He seemed not nearly as upset; probably because he had been stewing over it for a long time.

"My mother and I had no inkling of what had happened to him…of his whereabouts, for a long time. But one day, when I was about the same age as you, he showed up suddenly." Her eyes widened. She could only imagine how that had made him felt. He dropped his gaze, pensive as he continued.

"We were surprised…and happy, for a time. He was dressed in strange clothes, and in the few weeks he was with us, he seemed ill at ease. He had…strange pictures on his person…small portraits, of excruciating detail…encased in what he referred to as a 'wallet…" he eyed Rem, "he would not speak of them, at first. But late in the night, on the day he came home, I heard him break down about them, among other things I can not now recall, to my mother. I had no idea it was these he referenced, until I actually came across them—hidden in a drawer of the desk. He called them 'family photos,' in which he posed with a strange woman with light eyes and brown hair. And in some, there were pictures of you…" He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. She wanted to look away, but lacked the will to do so.

"You haven't changed much, Rem…In answer to your question, that was how I knew you...and he'd told me your name." He was quiet for a moment, during which time Rem idly traced invisible patterns uncomfortably with a finger atop the wood of the table. He spoke again, more sobered. As serious as Eorl…

"I was angry…when I found out. But…it didn't last long." She looked up at him, questioningly. "Saruman came for him…or rather, there were those who came on his behalf…" He trailed off, unwilling to speak of the details further. The horrors of that night obviously had not yet left him.

"They wanted something, but he refused. He denied having learned anything…of meeting no one that had known anything. But then, they found the pictures…" Rem bit her lip.

So, that was how Saruman knew to summon her. He must have seen the pictures…and figured Eorl was more likely to share with the daughter than the mistress. But why had he waited until now…?

Ansel probably didn't realize it, but Saruman had been searching for something beyond a mere weapon. He'd wanted to know of the turnout. How he had managed it was beyond her…but…it looked like Saruman had sent her father to her—no, her mother's world.

He must have been either unable to leave…or was bidden to stay until he found something of interest. He found it. Tolkien's books…that must have been why he was so obsessed with them. Why he had waited until she was old enough to understand…to fully comprehend the material. She had been used...and... He would have betrayed them all.

_Betrayed who? _A small voice piped up. _ That wasn't a part of your world…_But it was her father's world…and that made it partially hers, whether she would admit to it now or not. Another part of her felt sour at the realization that Eorl had been a two-timer. He'd had a wife and son back home, but had an affair anyway. He'd gotten her mother pregnant and then…wait…did they even marry?

She felt hollow at the thought. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't imagine a divorce of such that spanned...well...worlds was even feasible. She also couldn't ever recall seeing a wedding photo of her parents…not once. Was that why she hardly ever heard from her Mom's side of the family? They were angry that she had shacked up with a man, but not tied the knot?

Little pieces of herself: things she had suspected or maybe pushed off to wonder over later, came back to her now. Why she never heard from her father's side of the family…why her father never spoke to her about where he grew up or where he was raised…why he had been the stay-at-home parent while her mother worked…why he would sometimes get that far off look in his eyes… God, she felt like such a fool.

_But…maybe they really were in love. _She thought desperately. _He'd been counting on completing the task—of reporting back to Saruman, but found something else. Someone else. And he didn't mean to…_

It didn't matter.

Any angle she looked at it, she and her mother had been a replacement family. Whatever his original intentions, he had blundered into her mother's—and indirectly her—life. The sickening feeling of realization was making her stomach feel like rotting jello.

But…still. Ansel mentioned that he had refused to relinquish anything. And that was something. Either he hadn't realized the depth of his task, or he really had chosen to defy a wizard. She closed her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Such a thing had clearly cost him his life. At least by her guess.

For now, she would believe he had done the latter.

Belief was all she had left.

"Rem…" She looked up, undoubtedly a dull light in her eye.

"Hn…?"

"I wanted to ask you something…" she nodded.

"Fire away." At his questioning look, she quickly amended her slang.

"I mean…go ahead."

"I often wondered…where it was my father had gone. But I never knew. I don't think he even told Arleigh…for her—our—safety perhaps. And from the few belongings with which he returned, I couldn't imagine where he had obtained such strange things…And while I knew of your existence…I didn't…" he fixed her with a sharp look; immobile. "Where were you?"

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A sound startled them before Rem had the chance to think up an appropriate response; heavy footsteps, and a dull clatter as someone sat to Rem's left.

It was Gimli.

The dwarf cleared his throat in a business-like manner, apparently sizing up the young man sitting across from himself and the girl.

"An' what's yer office?" He asked bluntly. Startled by the question, Ansel's expression hardened.

"I'm part of Háma's unit." He offered finally. Gimli nodded, as if in understanding.

"He captain of the guard, then?" Ansel shook his head, wondering at the dwarf's interest. Rem was rather bemused herself. Though she couldn't deny her own slight curiosity…

"No." Gimli seemed to ponder this, while Rem contemplated whether or not she ought to kick the dwarf under the table. As much as she wanted some answers…to learn something real about her apparent half-brother, now just wasn't much of an ideal time…

"Ah. That'd be Éomer's place, eh?" Ansel nodded, albeit slowly, unsure what the dwarf was getting at.

"Yes…Traditionally, the rank of captain is reserved for one of royal status. Lord Éomer's absence, however, has since placed Háma in the position to enact those responsibilities on his behalf." Gimli scratched his beard, as if contemplating.

"Hn…so what was his station before that development?" he didn't reply right away, but catching sight of Rem's renewed interest prompted him to speak.

"Originally, his status was above those of domestic station, such as myself: commanding the Riddermark beyond home security has been quite recent…"

"So, what's your rank, then?" She was going to have to thank Gimli for this, later…in discussing such things, her mind was beginning to feel less like cotton and a bit more…well, functional was one way of putting it.

Ansel smiled ruefully, stroking his goatee that reminded her all too well of Eorl's habits.

"Nothing more than a common foot-soldier, I'm afraid." She nodded, offering amends.

"Still…there's some pride in that." She smiled back at him.

"So, what do ye intend to do about her?" Rem whipped her head back toward Gimli, surprise lending an edge to her voice. _Where heck did that come from?_ Was he gauging the guy's sense of responsibility or something?!

"Excuse me?!"

" I'm afraid…I hadn't really thought about that." Ansel looked decidedly less confused than Rem felt. She hadn't a clue why. Maybe she would have to kick Gimli after all...Right here at the table, before Ansel noticed.

Gimli shrugged.

"All I'm sayin' laddie, is that she's your kin, and technically your responsibility."

"I only just met him!" Rem snapped, her ire rising. Much to her chagrin, Ansel actually seemed to be considering it. An exchange of understanding appeared to be taking place between both dwarf and man. While the subject matter was certainly about her, Rem suddenly felt invisible. Like they were two adults talking over a child. It ticked her off.

"Hello, are you both nuts?" She exclaimed, trying to draw back their attention, "I'm twenty-two years old! I'm hardly a child—"

"And that, lassie, is precisely the point." Just as she was beginning to see red, the dwarf rose to go, nodding respectfully to the siblings before taking his leave. As he rounded the pillar, a voice—soft as velvet, assaulted his ears.

"And what was that about?" Gimli shrugged, pausing for a second as he looked over at the elf.

"You've a good head on your shoulders, lad. I'm sure you'll figure it out." Though it was almost imperceptible, Legolas shifted his gaze.

"What is it that you assume?" Gimli eyed him critically, but falling into step once more as he answered.

"That she's a confused lass…and ye two were making as much steam as boiled water durin' her bath the other day." Stroking his beard, he left in search—no doubt—of Aragorn. Or perchance some mead or grog, if there were any to be had.

Legolas watched him go, offering no further comment. He realized, much as he was loathe to admit it, that the dwarf had a point. The girl was in need of a guardian, now that one was available; it was the more proper thing. Not that he was quite happy about it.

"…he meant nothing disrespectful, Rem." He heard Ansel trying to placate her, and glanced back around the pillar to see a thunderous expression on Rem's face. Quietly, a virtue unto his race, he made his way after Gimli. Unfortunately—at least in light of things for now—it would seem their companions were far more astute in figuring out what was in the air between them than he would have liked. Doubtless, Aragorn—his closest friend— was well aware, too…

She gave Ansel what she imagined to be a dry look, anger already beginning to recede. _Give him a break_. She consoled herself._ He was only looking out for your best interests…even if they were backasswards in a noble sort of way…and…this guy really is…_

Somewhere, at the back of her mind, she realized that she had grown some. Enough, any way, to see past the singular perspective of things: reading between the lines. Months ago, she might have had a tantrum. Or blown up, verbally. She made a mental note to tone down her language…it couldn't hurt while she was here, for however long that might be…What if she was left behind, in his care? Instead of crying or screaming in frustration, as a not so little part of her wanted to do, she was merely making a face as though she'd had to swallow a foul medicine.

Or rather, a cold and bitter dose of reality.

Men in Middle Earth, after all, were the dominant subspecies around here, weren't they? _Oh, joy…_

"…But I didn't even know I had a brother." She groused childishly. It was bad enough having a dwarf who enacted as one now and again…So, really, it was actually more like she had two.

_This stinks…_

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Rem shifted from foot to foot, wishing she could put this off. It wasn't that she didn't want them…granted, she'd been looking forward to being on the receiving end for quite a while. She just hadn't, in her craziest of dreams, thought that she would be getting them while striving to avoid her older brother. _This is messed up on **so **many levels._

So here she was, outside of Éowyn's door.

Gandalf had recently passed by, while she was still fuming and sitting across from Ansel; commenting that she really wasn't properly dressed for the current state of affairs. Remembrance struck her then, although it had only been at the farthest alcoves of her mind. The funeral would be starting soon…and she had completely forgotten. She'd hardly noticed the slowing activity that had previously been going on about them, signifying that most of the preparations had been seen to.

Ansel immediately volunteered to borrow some garments from his wife. _A **wife**?! I've got a sister-in-law, now?!_ However, much to her predetermined horror, that had only involved a black dress. When he had initially only handed over the former after retrieving them from his home, Rem didn't have the guts to request underwear. Not from him, anyway. And she certainly wasn't too enthusiastic in borrowing such an intimate garment from a woman she hadn't even met—but obviously shared her brother's bed. She'd rather brave going commando just a little longer. He hadn't even bothered with a corset because he briefly alluded to the fact that none of his wife's would have fit her. Definitely not what she had wanted to hear.

The dress…**_Again_**_ with a stupid dress!! _…at least, seemed roomy enough in the chest to serve as being adequate. After some hesitation, her brother had suggested that she borrow from another. She'd escaped while he was speaking to a few of his peers—taking advantage of the distraction. She was hardly a fan of the idea of tagging along after him, and asking around door to door, if she might borrow undergarments. No way, José.

So here she was, silently praying, about to knock. Before she could, though, the great oaken thing opened as if by its own accord. There stood Éowyn, a curious look gracing her features as she recognized the girl from the throne room—a companion of the Gray Pilgrim.

"um…Hi…" Rem trailed off, not sure where to begin as she took in the young woman's fine ebony clothes and gold crown interwoven into her pale locks.

"Have you need of something?" she looked nonplused, albeit a little kindly as she inquired.

"I was…um…told that I needed to get…properly changed…and I don't really have anything else…?" That last part came out a bit more like a squeak. _Nice going, Rem._ She told herself to shut up. How the hell was one supposed to speak to royalty, any way…?! Especially in requesting a corset! Éowyn hesitated, as if unsure. Rem kind of wanted to kick herself, a sudden thought occurring to her. _Why the heck did I ever imagine I could borrow royal undergarments…? This was a stupid idea…_ A commotion sounded down the corridor, and Ansel's voice drifted over to them—making Rem stiffen.

"…Rem?! Rem, where are you? Blast it…where did that girl, go…?"

"Crap!" She muttered, then froze. _Oh God, please tell me I didn't just cuss in front of royalty…damn…damndamndamn…_

Initially startled at the oath, an empathetic look crossed Éowyn's features, and she widened the doorway.

"Come along, then…" Startled by the development, Rem nonetheless needed no further prompting to escape the sound of her brother—make that half brother's, voice. It was then she realized that she was being scrutinized. She turned, seeing Théoden's niece with a calculating look on her pretty features as the heavy door was closed behind her.

"Have you not a corset on?" Embarrassment stole across Rem's face.

"Mmm…that would be a no." Éowyn gave her a rather scandalized look, but shook her head.

"No mind. You can't go about looking like that…people will wonder…here," she tossed a thick garment at Rem, nearly hitting her in the face. It seemed the lady had rather good aim. Any way, she might have caught it deftly…were she not carrying her sister-in-law's dress. And maybe if she wasn't still rather injured. That was Rem's excuse, at any rate.

Éowyn then turned to her in a rigid, no-nonsense manner like that of a severe mother.

"Now undress yourself. The ceremony will be starting soon."

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A/N: Thank you again for all of your wonderful reviews!!!

And as always, any noted mistakes are appreciated as well as any inquires (I can be pretty scattered-brained) so let me know so that things can be fixed. Thanks again!!! Reviews are writer-fuel…


	19. Taking Steps

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine and no profit is or will be made…which is probably a good thing, in retrospect. Except for the minor detail wherein I'd have Legolas half-naked throughout most of the adventure…

A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Melibells; who not only reviews constantly (via the shiny button on the bottom corner of the screen) but also does fabulous fan-art, of her own volition no less, for Road To Rohan on Deviant Art DOT com.

Presently, she has three pieces for this story.

Thank you, Mel!!!

THANK YOU ALL WHO TAKE THE TIME TO REVIEW!!!! Especially those who carefully critique—the help is appreciated!!…you all make me smile!!!

Also, important author's note located at the end of this chapter (please read).

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'The voice that pierces deep into my

chest is like a never-ending cheer'

~Tite Kubo

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_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe…oh god!!_ Rem stumbled, catching herself against the stone wall of the corridor. Trying to concentrate on remaining a part of the waking world, she roughly stroked the canvas of an intricate tapestry etched with fading colors as though it contained Braille.

It was glaringly clear to her that Éowyn hadn't been kidding around with those corset laces. The woman had been in such a hurry to assist her that she'd forgone calling servants and tended to the matter herself.

That or they really were quite different in terms of body type. She was, after all, quite willowy in comparison to Rem. She probably had Eorl to thank for that aspect. Rem flinched at the thought. She didn't really want to think about him right now…until recently, things had never seemed this…complicated. Half of her wanted to blame this, all of everything, solely on him; months ago, she'd had an un-extraordinary life filled with the typical dramas and angst of any other young adult.

Now…she'd been having restless nightmares about a cold, calculating wizard with black eyes. Dreams entrenching those with a sickly sweet garden—only so referred to her because of visiting it so redundantly—and a member of the Valar who spoke in riddles. She'd fallen into a world she had once thought as nothing more than a fairytale with no impact on its outcome; seen people die and watched blood—typically her blood, of late—run and flow from numerous wounds. That which she knew, those who she'd loved, had been ripped away entirely because of the actions of a man who made her family into a twisted, marionette divergence from his own. It was all so…completely unfair.

And then, there was the certain matter pertaining to a rather…amorous elf, of late.

She hastily pushed that last thought aside, resuming her stride down the hall while secretly swallowing deep gulps of the sweet, musty air.

_What I wouldn't give to take another written exam on the external auditory meatus…_She blinked stupidly, pausing for breath…uh, thought.

_I can't believe that sentence __**actually**__ crossed my mind just now. _She resumed walking, puffing some of the hair from out of her face as she did. _Somewhere out there…my professor is cheering._ Entering the throne room, she braced herself before pushing her way into the crowd. Normally, she would have looked around for her companions. But at the moment, she didn't mind a few extra moments alone to herself while surrounded by a sea of strangers. Not with the way things were.

"Rem!" She turned suddenly, heart lurching high up into her throat at the sound of her name.

"Where have you been?" Ansel, Rem decided, most definitely mirrored their father when pissed. He glared at her, the sharpened features of his face radiating the emotion.

"I was…getting dressed." He looked her over, nodding. "Yes…I can see that." She quirked an eyebrow at her, suppressing a twitch. _You seriously needed to verify that I'd changed clothes? I'm not freaking six years old…_

"Much better," he intoned awkwardly. She stared at him as though he were a bit slow in the brain. _Slow…and off the mark. Oh, oh…do I get a gold star?!_ Keeping her sarcastic thoughts to herself—for the time being as least, she looked away, seeking a familiar face. Any face. She just wanted to be far away from here…Far from him.

Guilt gnawed at the insides of her, just like it had incessantly began doing when she'd first felt the urge to blame the reality of present circumstances on her father. Ansel was her brother, for crying out loud. But despite that… she found, however small, a part of herself wanting to stay far away from him. Internally, Rem rationalized her unsociable feelings toward him with the fact that everything was rushing together too fast and she merely had to grow used to him—to the idea that nothing would ever again be as it was. She had to get to know him. _Later_. She promised herself._ I'll get to know my half-brother later…right now, all I want is…_

"You are looking well." She jumped: the soft voice of Legolas had appeared at her right, catching her unawares. She drank in his beautiful appearance, nerve endings afire in awareness of his close proximity. Embarrassed, she then tore her gaze away, muttering a reply.

"Uh…yeah. I mean, thanks…" Rem then noted the slight consternation etching along Ansel's brow.

"What?" he shrugged at her question.

"You worried me: I did not know where it was you had disappeared." She shrugged apologetically. _…Not like anything's going to nab me in the hallway…_However desperate Saruman might be in trying to attain her…for whatever his purposes, he didn't credit him with being that stupid. In Edoras, she was surrounded by capable fighters.

"Sorry…but…you seemed kind of preoccupied." He didn't respond right away, but when he did, puzzlement colored his voice.

"You had no trouble, in attaining…anything, then?"

_No. I'm always this in the bust perky; And this short of breath. What the hell do YOU think?!_

"No… Éow—I mean, Lady Éowyn was quite generous. She lent me…huh?" She took a step backward from Ansel, a bit alarmed at the strange expression crossing his features. Concerned, Legolas put a placating hand upon her shoulder, turning to her brother.

"What ails you?" Ansel ignored the elf's spoken question; probably too upset to acknowledge anything other than what he was about to say.

"You went to **her**?" Baffled, she nodded. Legolas' warm palm, half way breaching her naked skin off the shoulder and the material of her sleeve encouraged her to stand her ground.

"Well, yeah…it didn't seem like a big deal. And she was kind of enough to assist me—"

"She tended to you—as a servant?!" He looked horrified. It looked like gasoline had been added to the proverbial fire. Rem couldn't help getting a little agitated herself, now.

"Just what is the problem, here?! I couldn't exactly do it myself! Besides, she insisted!"

"That's no excuse!" he sputtered, "she is a daughter of kings; not a chambermaid at your disposal!" Legolas tried to intervene, seeing as how the argument was beginning to rise and gain unwanted attention. Already, a few people closest to them were sneaking subtle glances. But Rem cut in over him, anger squelching whatever qualms she might have otherwise had in carrying on in a public place, before a funeral no less.

"I never implied that she was! You make it sound like I've shamed an entire house! Look, even if I could get dressed by some acrobatic means, it's physically impossible right now what with my shoulder—" Ansel's brow then furrowed, stopping her rudely once more.

"Your shoulder? Have you been you injured?..." She let out a choppy, frustrated sigh. _This is ridiculous!_

"Would you pick a subject and stick to it?! Stop interrupting!"

"That in no way has been my intention!" Ansel snapped, "But Rem, you've been—"

"Been what?! Taken care of by someone other than you?! Newsflash: it's been going on for the past twenty-two years! Guess what: you can't keep your hand on the pulse-point in every aspect of my life now that I'm here!" Several faces turned, staring.

Worried, Legolas ushered her from the crowd, knowing Ansel—in his current state— would follow. The man looked hurt suddenly, and somehow, that pissed her off even more. Upon arriving on the stone terrace outside the house's entrance, she shrugged off Legolas' hand, viciously turning to face her older brother. The wind angrily ripped at her hair, mussing it about and unraveling the bun that had been painstakingly made of her hair.

"Rem, I have only your best interest at heart…!"

"You sure have a funny way of showing it," she countered, "Why are you picking apart stupid little details that don't even matter?" She fumed. Legolas remained silent, studying them both should things escalate beyond a verbal exchange.

"You misunderstand me, girl!" There was deep anguish in Ansel's tone, "I'm merely concerned over what your actions might instigate; Lady Éowyn is a virtuous woman who ought not to be taken advantage of…" he swept a weary hand through his tangled hair, as if burdened.

"I am your brother, Rem. In terms of responsibility and reason, I regret not having been there for you before, as was my duty. I wish you would trust now that I will be here ever after in your life…You are now in my hands and need not rely on any other, especially upon those beyond that of your status…" he paused, the frosty look evident on Rem's face putting him to silence.

"Beyond my status…."She repeated, disgust honeyed her words—like a sneeze coating a cupcake. "What does that even mean?!"

"You are not listening to me!" he snapped.

"What, like you are?!" she gesticulated with her hands, vying with them for lack of something other to do while agitated. She'd never quite repressed the urge to strangle someone this much before in her life. Which, after having worked retail, she surmised was saying a lot. She certainly hadn't started this fight—whatever it was really about, but that didn't mean she didn't have the uterus to finish it!

"You fire off one accusation at me after another, following up inane inquires with temperamental questions without bothering to hear the answers. You claim to want to help me—to look after me. Forgive me if I find that so hard to believe..."

"Is it?" She stared at Ansel, even though it was the elf who had spoken. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted to those of Legolas. He wasn't looking at her, at least not at first. Seeing him there: his arms folded as though in a radiant calm…made something loosen in side of her; the anger that had been building up, poisoning her from the inside… was letting go. Fatigue was taking it's place. It had been a long day…an emotional roller coaster for the past forty-something hours. She dropped her warm brown eyes to the ground, as if to find the appropriate words laying there on the stone.

"Honestly? Yes." She raised a hand to her forehead, warding off what might look like a coming headache. Actually, she was a bit dizzy from all of the yelling. The corset still wasn't allowing her much room to breathe, and even now took its toll as she tried to calm down.

"I'm still trying to take everything in, Ansel." He looked as though he were about to speak, but was not given the chance; Legolas spoke once more.

"Forgive me, but it seems…that you wish to step in where Eorl left off," clear, azure eyes never wavered from the young man. Rem didn't need this…just as the elf had initially suspected. She had no need of a singular guardian, much less one of the same bloodline she hardly knew. What was more was that she was far too stubborn. Any dolt could see this. "But you are not her father, Ansel." He gave Legolas a dirty look.

"This doesn't concern you, elf! She is in need of a paternal figure; and I will fulfill that role! why she was traveling with any of you or your companions in the first place is beyond me. But as her brother, I find it entirely inappropriate!..."He continued from there, but she'd stopped paying attention. Rem felt winded, like she'd been slapped. Her eyes widened; brown almond eyes burning at the insult. She put aside the fact that she hadn't wanted to accompany the fellowship in the first place. They were the closest to family she had in this place. Legolas had merely been stating the obvious. Pointing out what should have been obvious to all…and he had said it in her defense.

"Why would you speak to him that way?" Ansel glared at her, as though she were a child in need of understanding. Or it could have been that he was frustrated that she had not been listening once again.

"Rem, that has no bearing on—"

"It has a bearing on everything," she all but screamed, "namely on how you see yourself!" Silence met her ears, but for the wind, "he was only pointing out what I should have seen straight off the bat! You want to be a part of my life? Dandy. But you can't act as though my life will now rise or set over you now that you're in it; you're my father's son but in no way, shape, or form my guardian."

She sighed, feeling drained. Vaguely, she was upset about the fact her hair was now an unruly mess; Éowyn had arranged it so carefully…what was more, the ceremony had undoubtedly begun: starting without them. Below, the peasantry of Edoras awaited at the bottom stair, somberly expectant. A few were staring up at them. She ignored them as best she could. It was more private and open here than in the throne room. Upon seeing Ansel's facial expression in reaction to her words, guilt licked at her. She tried to start again as her anger waned.

"…. I'm sorry for what I said…for how I sounded." She gave her brother a tired look, one which he reflected to a degree. "Gimli meant well, but I think you've jumped over a few steps by going about this the wrong way. It was unfair of me to say the things I did. I'll admit that. I'm just…there's so much I didn't know…coming to grips with, and it's tearing me up inside…"

It was true, she realized. There had been a whole bunch of bottled up emotions, on both their accounts; some of which came spilling out through mis-chosen words that wound up escalating into this stupid argument. She was angry…but more than that: she was confused, about a lot of things. Aside from what was happening here and now, worry lingered over the fact that she'd had no distinguishing dreams from the Valar; they had seemed so potent before...Was she losing touch with what had become reality?

"I too, said things rashly," Ansel's sounded worn, like aged leather, "But, they were not wrong, Rem…" She stared at him. It didn't matter that they had the same blood. He was a stranger. He didn't get what she was saying. While she wasn't ignorant to the fact that Rohan likely had its own protocol in terms of custom, that didn't mean she could immediately abandon those with which she had been raised back home.

This was a patriarchal society.

He wouldn't even admit to being wrong.

Not that she had been right. Hell, even she realized that two people could both be wrong about the same thing. They had both said mean things and were it not for Legolas enacting as an interloper—as well as an adult in the situation between the three of them, admittedly— it very well would have likely continued. But Ansel wouldn't even admit to that…

This verbal spar with her brother over meaningless things was really an allegory to something else: a relevant standing to their differences and sorted concerns. She was sure of it. Trying to place one another in the allotted slots known as 'priorities' was taking a lot out of the both of them as emotions ran high in light of other happenings. But that was no excuse…there wasn't one good enough for what he had said.

"Legolas was only trying to help," she said quietly over the wind, cutting off Ansel's words, whatever they might have been. "Fuck, he's been chaperoning us this whole time we've been arguing!" Ansel inhaled sharply at her usage of an oath, but she didn't relent. Not after what he'd said before. "…and I never want to hear you speak to him like that again. He has been nothing but helpful since I came here... If it weren't for him…for my companions, I wouldn't still be alive."

As if in a dream, mourners drifted out around them. They held aloft the prince's body, making their way toward where he would be buried outside of the city's gates. All three made no move, awash in shock, fatigue, and surprise respectively as the small sea of people parted around them down toward the stone steps.

"You may be my brother, but he has been my protector, and a true confidant. People…can't be replaced so easily, Ansel. Not even for blood. " She really believed that. Somehow, somewhere along the line, something had changed. It was with a deepening awareness that she knew Legolas was slowly becoming someone close to her…but he was. Even if only at a sedentary pace. But that, too, would probably evolve with time. He was more than Ansel…would ever be to her. God help her, but it was fact. And that was almost a scary thought—because of the acuity felt in that truth: that he was irreplaceable…and she had wanted him nearly from the start. Maybe as much as he had wanted her. She cut off that last line of thought. It was enough…her stomach was already in knots, and she just might be ill.

With that, she turned, taking the elf's hand, melting into the entourage around them. Ansel stood there, looking after them, until he too began walking. There was much to consider about his head-strong younger sister...as well as her strange companions.

All reached the barren, grassy plains and watched at the body of the pale Théodred was carried to the threshold of his final resting place. The sweet, strange bellow of Éowyn's voice in a foreign tongue to Rem's understanding could be heard.

Tears burned at Rem's eyes, but rather than let them fall, she held Legolas' hand all the tighter… and to her relief, he squeezed back, and offered no comment.

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"…" She looked up in a haze, taking in that someone had spoken to her.

"Hm?" Legolas' beautiful visage showed deep concern as he carefully repeated what he had said.

"…Are you well, Rem?" Was she? She couldn't really tell. She kind of wanted to throw up, she reflected. _Hopefully not on him again_, she thought wryly. Once had been quite enough…it kind of felt like ages ago, now. But the stress of the past several hours had really gotten to her. She needed to lay down…or something.

"Rem?"

…something…

Those achingly soft lips were moving closer. She was tempted to lean over and.

No.

Not now. Definitely not now…or here. Not after…that.

If anything happened, she decided firmly, it wouldn't be a result of undergoing some emotional turmoil. She refused to jump him simply because she felt all twisted inside and out over everything that had been learn…that had been said.

"I'll…be fine." She looked up, staring up at the sky as it cast lengthening shadows upon the scattered simbelmynë blossoms. It then crossed her awareness that she was still holding Legolas' hand. But with that recognition came a memory, unbidden, from when they had been in Caras Galadhon. _I know I don't really belong here…but…if I'm going to live here, I want to at least not feel alone…_Yes…she had spoken those self-same words to him. And it was as true then as it was now. Choosing not to dwell on it too long, she tugged his hand absently, gesturing that they should start heading back. Some of the crowd remained, however few.

"Come on…the king will want privacy." He didn't understand at first; until his gaze picked out from around them the remaining few of their fellowship, save the hobbits of course. They stood not far from the king, and Gandalf alone was making no move, as Gimli and Aragorn hesitantly began to take their own leave. Yes… Théoden very likely needed that privacy: time to mourn, and to take counsel. No person, however great their stature, was ever above the need of comfort and solace. Especially at a time such as this.

He nodded, inattentively, his mind still mulling over the fact that Rem had taken his side. Not that he had intended to forge such halves between the two siblings. Gimli's words, and later remarks shared between the two, had eclipsed his earlier feelings of the situation. Rem indeed needed someone to look after her, especially if she chose to settle in this place of her kindred. Not that he was quite comfortable with the idea. Far from it, in fact…The idea of her, away from him, as well as the rest of the fellowships' footsteps, was unsettling to say the least. But, in the end, Gimli aided him in seeing reason regarding her continuing to traipse about Middle Earth in their wake. She was without any greater purpose, it would seem, but for their taking comfort in her presence.

He decided to approach things out of her best interest for now on. While her having a brother was certainly unprecedented, months ago he might have guessed that something like this might have happened any way. Someone running from home, after all, was not unheard of. Aragorn would very well agree. But, beneath the mellryn trees, he had learned enough of Rem to know she spoke the truth in not being of this world. The way in which she acted, how she had first appeared, and her odd habits continually bespoke of this. So the finding of her kin had most certainly not been expected.

Her response to the matter even less so; a seer she most definitely was not—her reaction to Ansel and news of her father impressed him with that much. Still, she knew something: enough to be a danger, at the least. Saruman's want of her proved that beyond any doubt. It had most assuredly not escaped him, nor likely his companions, that it was Rem's name the possessed king had spoken. It would seem the white wizard of Isengard had indeed summoned the girl. But, no matter how she had been brought here or who she had first appeared to be, a young woman of strong will and opinions she very much remained. Even in spite of needing a guiding hand.

Ansel had overstepped his bounds by not recognizing the former. However much he knew of the sister he had only so recently met, it couldn't hold a candle to how much Legolas had come to recognize.

He had merely spoken in her defense, as she was not a child to be handled or disciplined. While she could act childish, as were all beings that had begun with such humble beginnings, she was not a child. And most assuredly not a stupid one. The fact that she had taken his words and run away with them was something that had happened entirely out of his hands. Not that he found such a thing unwelcome.

He took comfort in the fact that his words had helped, and his gestures had not gone unappreciated during. Though he did feel, to an admittedly small degree, some remorse in how the argument had virtually ended betwixt the two. But that, he once again reminded himself, had not been his doing. What was started was most usually never ended by predicted means. He had merely held aloft the metaphorical lantern of words, and she had used them as a means to find her own path: a reaction to Ansel and his somewhat less than acute perception.

This, he realized—squeezing Rem's hand gently in reminder, had been the first time she had graciously accepted his aid. And it had not only been a surprise…it was a start. And that was something to marvel over.

Perhaps even cherish.

Even as he reflected over this, he felt the gentle, accepting pressure of her squeezing back. And while her eyes did not meet his own, the blush of a smile had begun at the corners of her mouth, surpassing the sadness in her eyes.

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Gimli watched the mismatched couple as they waded through some of the lingering crowd. That she held Legolas' hand had not been lost on him. But such a thing was to be expected, what with their recent little escapade by the pond and all. Their attraction prior to that incident had been quite plain—at least to his eyes. Rem's mercurial nature, when tapered into being stubborn and argumentative, stoked the young elf's passions beyond any doubt of mutual interest. He surmised that the fighting itself was more of a defensive system Rem sought to hide behind than anything else. He also guessed that Aragorn was quite aware of all this as well, even if the ranger's own observations remained unsaid. Gandalf had probably known before any of them; not too surprising, that.

Aside from that, Gimli remained concerned for the girl in wake of this forging relationship. Or rather, he was merely more outspoken than the others in that regard; ever since she had fallen into his care outside of Rivendell, he had tenaciously fulfilled the role of looking after the lass. She had quite a few dwarfish qualities, most of which warmly reflected how a daughter of his own might act should he ever sire one. She was stubborn, fiercely independent, swore more than was proper, and maternal in terms of how she sought to comfort and appeal to others. The song she had sung once, long ago, at the consistent request of Samwise Gamgee was the sweetest thing he'd heard fall from those lips despite her somewhat untrained voice. It had nearly brought tears to his eyes then…

So it was with common sense he had appealed to Ansel to look after her. As much as he wished not to dwell on the prospect, he realized that Rem might very well choose to remain in Edoras should Gandalf direct the fellowship to take its leave. Much was yet to happen, and war was coming, whether the girl could lay claim to knowledge of it or not. No matter what she knew or had known, she now had to put into calculation her own plans and considerations for the future.

The flush of a smile had appeared on Rem's face, and while Legolas' back was now to him he had an inkling that a similar expression was now there being shared. He trudged heavily by Aragorn's side, his mind straying from guidance for the girl to the matter of Rem's father.

That he had been a man of Rohan had been his guess since Moria, when Rem had relented and discharged a few details concerning the man that had walked out of her and her mother's life. Eorl, after all, was a name known even to him from his forefathers by the gossip of men. Eorl The Young, lord of Éothéod, had—after all, founded the kingdom of Rohan long, long ago. Or rather, been awarded the land after coming to Gondor's aid in some battle or other. And while Legolas would know more on the subject, he was more or less certain that Eorl the Young had also tamed the first of the Mearas…not that he could correctly remember the horse's name.

It was Gimli's best guess that, in being named after so great a personage, it had been hoped that Eorl would live up to and honor his namesake. The dwarf snorted, drawing a questioning look from Aragorn, who still strolled at his side. Obviously, such a thing had turned out to be nothing more than a dream: a fancy of hopeful parents.

His eyes looked ahead to Rem once more, and they misted with a feeling he did not care to name. But for her father, the girl would likely not have come to be on this road.

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A/N: I would like to note that, after some careful consideration and many encouraging comments from all of you—the reviewers, I have since remedied the concept of Legolas' field of…expertise. Ergo, he (like Rem) still carries his V-Card…It's truer to Tolkien, after all…


	20. Forward

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and no profit is or ever will be made from this fanciful tale…but maybe the best things in life are free…?

A/N: Honestly didn't mean for it to take this long…Living gets in the way of life…Thank you for your lovely reviews and patience, as always!!

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'We—as one

Are not intertwined

As two

Do not share the same form

With three,

Only one's person does not have

With four,

We have no hope in that direction

As for five—

It comes from the heart's place'

~Tite Kubo

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Rem sat at a small vanity in a room down the hall from the throne room, twisting her fingers anxiously against the worn oak. The chamber was awash with shadow, tingeing the deep russets and golden emerald paints that adorned banners and walls with something more somber. Twilight waned, and with it fled any inkling of a good mood Rem might have had left.

Legolas had deposited her here, after their being accosted by a guard who had been under orders to seek out the members of their company. They were all to receive proper accommodation while staying in the King's house. Or more to the point, Rem was to receive a room in order to properly separate her from the others. As decorum and decency of the realm dictated in the courtesy of receiving strange guests associated with Gandalf the Grey.

She hadn't been as upset as she otherwise might have been. He mind felt full, and her stomach empty. She needed some private time to meditate…to reflect for a little while in order to retain what little sanity she had miraculously retained. Determined, Rem alluded to the fact that she was hungry. Sure enough, Legolas predictably agreed to find her something. So here she was…alone.

Disappointment coiled tightly within her chest, squeezing her heart and making her feel as though it were somehow being pushed sideways. She snorted, pushing her brown hair tiredly out of her face. It felt like the world was slowly spiraling out from under her, one precious thread at a time.

Things she had known, or rather, what she had thought to have known, lay broken. The truth about her father, of who he really was, was an image now dashed against a hard and merciless reality. It left her feeling hollow inside. Maybe coated with a vague resentment as well; the lingering anger she felt toward Ansel.

Check that.

She still had the urge to punch him in the face.

So perhaps she was still rather pissed. She was now merely reigning it in better. Rem had, as she sat here alone for the better part of an hour, found a small metaphorical box inside of herself in which to bury this emotion. Pack it away until its potency waned as she strove to use this brief, welcome period of being alone to reflect on things.

It occurred to her, as she sat there dully without ceasing the agitated movement of her hands, that what she was feeling wasn't necessarily logical. Sure, she was pretty ticked off at her half-brother. At what he'd said, how he'd acted…but maybe she ought to be feeling some of this toward Gimli, as well. _It would make more sense, right?_ She bit her lip.

But somehow…for some reason, she just couldn't twist her emotions around that way. Granted, she realized that both (deluded) men had only her best interest for her well-being. That things were rather backward around here in respect to the care and concern of young women. But…a traitorous part of her still trusted the dwarf more than someone of her own blood. The guilt of that truthful sentiment squirmed around within her insides. But…maybe she was looking at this from the wrong perspective. Ansel was, despite any relation whatsoever, nonetheless a stranger.

Whereas Gimli had been looking out for her from day one; a misadventure that had led her here, to Rohan…An icy fear gripped her, making the air freeze in her throat for a split second. _Was he…Is he…trying to dump me here?!_ She inhaled sharply, striving to regulate her breathing in order to calm down.

It would…make sense…for him to do that. The possibility had crossed her mind once or twice…but still. The shock of it actually happening so immediately rubbed her the wrong way. Like getting doused with icy water encased within garishly colored water balloons.

She wasn't much of a fighter. Sure, her archery had improved from all those months ago when she had first practiced in Rivendell. But she was far from the marksmen any of her companions could be when drawn into battle. Rem wasn't much of anything but a burden…Of course they would want to deliver her into the hands of her next of kin. It was only logical. She was…useless.

She slammed her hand onto the table top, suddenly infuriated. _That's not fair!_ She fumed, standing up hurriedly. _They didn't even ask me what 'I' wanted!_ She stomped over to the door, her current aggression masking whatever else she was feeling. Rem latched onto the powerful emotion, allowing herself the sweet distraction of anger. She could worry about her father and brother later. Right now…she had some dwarf heinie to kick!

However, as she made to bang open the door, it swung open as if by its own accord. The movement startled her for a moment, making her stumble back. Until she realized that it was merely Legolas, a half loaf of bread and a chalice of water in his hands. He looked as genuinely surprised as she felt, and for an instant, they did nothing but merely lock eyes. Rem found her voice first.

"Where's Gimli?!" His azure eyes appraised her as he resumed entering the room, setting the procured nourishment upon a large, elegantly carved trunk that crouched at the base of the immense bed. He chose his words carefully, well aware her emotions—for whatever reason—had swung into being more turbulent. Something, while not altogether unexpected what with recent happenings, would nonetheless suite him best to tread over carefully

"…What is it that you require of him?" Her sharp, almond brown eyes narrowed.

"I need to….speak…with him." _Among OTHER things…_Legolas didn't look convinced.

"Concerning what, may I ask?" Rem crossed her arms, her features tightened in her wrath as she bit out her reply.

"None of your business!"

"I beg to differ." He countered. She gave him an acrid look, but relented in giving him a more precise reply, though she practically bit out the words.

"…About sticking his nose where it doesn't belong!" The elf contemplated this, approaching her cautiously as he effectively made his guess.

"This…I may assume, has to do with Ansel, does it not?" She wouldn't look at him.

"…He goaded him…" She mumbled. Legolas paused, his acute hearing picking up on the sentiment. He had more than an inkling toward what is was she alluded. Gimli had encouraged Ansel to enact as Rem's guardian, and for whatever reason, the penetration of this idea had finally occurred to her. What was more, she found it to be offensive; a delayed reaction, by Legolas' opinion.

"He was looking out for your best interest…" Again, she refused to look at him. Instead, she emptily stared at the food he had brought, fuming beneath the surface. He hesitated, but pushed onward.

"It was assumed…That it would be best for you to remain here, under the care of your kindred." He instantly regretted his words.

"You want to leave me here, too?!" She erupted, shock warring for dominance in her expression.

"That was not what I—" she interjected immediately, obviously seeing red.

"Bullshit! You all just want to get rid of me! To leave me with some…babysitter! I don't care if he IS my HALF-brother, he's a stranger!"

"But he is nonetheless your sibling—"

"Well then my 'SIBLING' is a jerk-off!" She nearly screamed. Tears were beginning to sting her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not yet…not now. She was supposed to be strong, damn it! But everyone here persistently thought of her as weak…How was she to prove them wrong? Another thought occurred to her, and she elaborated on it aloud.

"How can you even think of defending him? After how he treated you—how he…"

"This has nothing to do with me." He cut her off simply. Before she gave an answer, he was upon her, cornering her against the wall. His well-toned hands upon the stone to either side of her body cut off any venue of escape as he inquired in a lowered tone. He was fed up, suddenly. Of her continual explosions of unpredictability—the inevitability of their appearance was nearly becoming routine.

"Why do you persist in the excuse of this emotion? What can possibly be so insulting as to have companions that care for your state of well-being to the point of their unwillingness in leaving you behind under a blood relative's care?"

Rem stared up at him, blanching in surprise in being cornered—quite literally. For a moment, she put aside her discomfort, venturing a question.

"So you…no one really wants me to leave?" It didn't escape his attention that she referred only to the latter half of his sentiment. But he didn't need time to think about his reply. The answer was simple.

"No." And myself least of all, he silently admitted. She puffed out a breath of air, choking back a sound, then shoved at his arm in order to escape and regain some lost composure. He allowed it, watching her as she circled away toward the bread and water toward the foot of the bed. Watching her, he felt the desire to speak…to validate an observation she herself might not be aware of. This dizzying repetition, their inconsistent interactions between hot and cold, needed to end. Sooner rather than later.

"Why do you avail so easily to that emotion?" Her back stiffened at his words, but he did not abate. "When confronted with something, or perhaps in the attempt of concealing whatever else you might be feeling, you allow yourself to feed on anger. Why?" She tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing rigorously as she fought off the growing desire to grab the chalice of water to splash it in his face. _What is he getting at?!_

"I can understand your fear in being left behind…but there's more to this façade. You're hiding something. You've been hiding something." He didn't pause, although granted he hadn't initially intended to ask after her behavior as of now. But once begun, he wanted to see it through. It was rare for them to have a moment alone, and he desired an answer…confirmation on her part of the feelings she obviously fought; the ones that had urged her to return that kiss...to hold his hand.

"There is another reason to our consistent arguments; your barbed sentiments have always assured this. While I admit that it takes two to argue…I would like to know why you have always persisted in their development between the two of us…Why you choose to avoid me at the oddest of times." Her face drained of all color, before suffusing with color in the stain of a blush.

"I don't know what you're getting at!!" she snapped, hurtling toward the door. Before he could venture another inquiry, she had slammed the door and was away. As he stood there, looking after where she had disappeared, he realized that he was getting frighteningly near the truth. And deep down, she realized that too, hence her abrupt denial and even swifter departure.

True, it was likely that she was indeed upset and more than a little worried in being left behind in an unfamiliar place with someone she had no prior knowledge of. It was even quite evident that she had been angry for his sake in how her brother had treated him, as a friend…. Yet there was more to it than that, and now they both knew it, beyond any denial.

She allowed emotions to fill her up in order to ignore other more impending feelings…Anger, it would seem, was her most effective shield. Without it, he very much doubted she would feel strong enough to allow any other of her personal defenses to be breached. Until an understanding was reached, until she stopped running away, his yearning, which he believed to be reciprocated, would mean nothing. As he contemplated this, the girl in question continued to flee.

Air burned in her lungs, and the corset constrained her from moving as fast as she would have liked. She needed to move…to escape the elf and his words…words more than likely true. Rem couldn't believe she'd been so transparent in order to allow him to finally assess—no, to haphazardly guess what he thought she'd been hiding all along. That whenever she felt confused or was in fear of revealing what she really felt, she continuously latched onto the more potent of her feelings in order to secretly hide all else.

But he had arrived at that conclusion. Granted, it really should have penetrated her subconscious sooner. That he would attempt to nail down her behavior. Especially given that a previous hobby of his, when she had first inadvertently joined the fellowship, had been studying her. But he shouldn't have known—given a reason to guess. She didn't want him to know...to think she was that easy to figure out. It was just insulting! And…and any attraction she might or might be concealing was her own damn business… It was then that she also realized—as the shadows of evening painted the stone in shades of darkness, the torches flickering in the sconces of the hall—that she hadn't thanked him for bringing her food.

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She clattered into the throne room, unaware, and out of breath. Her hair was a tumbling mess, and her lungs screamed as she heaved for proper breath. _Stupid corset!_ Her nose felt like it might start running as well. Not surprising, given that she had been running rather hard, and the drafty temperatures of the empty chamber certainly wasn't helping. She leaned against a pillar, fighting the urge to rub her nose in a rather unlady-like manner. That was when she noticed she wasn't alone.

Aragorn sat at a vast table, pipe at his lips, ready to light up. Seeing her, he paused for the breath of a second, as though caught in a private moment. But his eyes flickered, and he inclined his regal head in the suggestion that she join him at the bench as he finished lighting his pipe.

She hadn't the faintest idea where he had acquired the tobacco—er, Longbottom Leaf, but decided she wouldn't waste time contemplating it. In seeing her hesitate instead of approach, Aragorn spoke gently as the newborn smoke wreathed about his tired face.

"…Sit. Be at ease."

_Easy for you to talk,_ she thought glumly. _Thank god I didn't wipe my nose…_She sank down onto the opposite bench, waiting for his attention to wane before sneakily wiping her nose anyway—self-conscious about the sight she presented.

He was either unaware of her fluster, or chose not to comment. He exhaled slowly, the plum of burning leaves leaving his lips.

"…something trouble you?" She started at the sound, locking eyes onto his unassuming grey that were in fact focused elsewhere. When she failed to respond, his glance turned to her own.

"..N-no…" It sounded more like a question being phrased than a truthful answer. _Right, that sounded convincing, _she sarcastically congratulated herself. Idly, Rem wondered whether or not she could rehearse that. Maybe while running. Far, far away; especially from perceptive eyes. Like the ones looking back at her now. She sighed, seeing no point in staving off the obvious what with him looking at her like that.

"Things are just…complicated right now." He looked curious by that sentiment, if not a little bemused.

"And they were not before?" She snorted, the air puffing her more than likely wild hair out of her eyes.

"Not that I was aware of …" His gaze prompted her to elaborate.

"In the span of about twenty-four hours, I finally have it confirmed that not only was I summoned here by Saruman himself for questionable reasons, but that my father was a traitor—in this world and in mine, and that I've got a half-brother who apparently has a wife and kid…." _Not to mention elf-boy thinks he has me all figured out._ That last part pissed her off more than anything else. She didn't need the excuse of a petty rage to divert attention from whatever she might or might not be emotionally experiencing! That stupid jerk was…

"…right?" Her chocolate eyes re-focused on her companion, uttering oh so intelligibly in hearing that startling remark.

"Muh?!" A small curve of his lips was the only indication of the otherwise serious ranger's amusement at her expense.

"I said 'is that right?'" he rephrased gently. _Oh…I thought he…_

"Pretty much," she cut herself off abruptly, not liking that last train of thought. Wherever the hell it was headed. Silence descended, and it was then Rem noticed how pensive the future king of men really seemed. Something was on his mind…breathing just beneath the surface. She was intrigued…and a little worried about him. But in the span of several minutes decided to keep her big fat mouth shut. If he wanted to talk about it—whatever 'it' was, he'd say something. _Far be it from me to be pushy_…She took in his swarthy looking visage, the handsome features as he tried to enjoy his pipe. _He's strong…so much stronger than me._ Yet in the back of her head, a little voice piped up.

_But that's a weakness,_ it guiltily pointed out, _being stronger than others means you usually take on more than you really should._ From the way Aragorn looked, he was assuredly beneath heavier burdens than Rem could ever manage to bear. She felt childish, suddenly, in his presence. While he might not at times look it outside of private moments like these, he was three score and five years older than her, and had seen so much more; had shouldered so much more pain than she could ever imagine. The things he had endured, the things he still underwent, made her small problems look pathetic in comparison. _He's killed a man._

The sentence passed through her mind unbidden, making her pause for a second. This was a man that had seen bloodshed, perhaps seen women and children, and most assuredly soldiers, fall in splashes of crimson. This was a man, of the last of his house meant to lead Middle Earth into a new age, who cherished an impossible love that no one save herself knew would succeed in being eternal…

She was just a little brat.

A brat with petty problems, though problems nonetheless. Someone who really didn't have the right to piss and moan because all she was faced with, in the end, was being someone who merely ran away. She was always running away. Not physically of course, discounting the stupid little jog she'd just performed down the corridor. But metaphorically…

When Eorl had up and left, she'd run from the love and trust she'd once held for him. Hating him had been easier. Feeling betrayed had been easier. When she'd finally awakened to the fact that she harbored something beyond a purely physical reaction toward Legolas, she'd…she'd done just exactly as he'd suggested. She ran from them. Denied them up and down, in fact using anger as the guise he'd accused her of hiding behind. And it was all beginning to unravel around her.

She'd tried running away from the fellowship after what had happened in Moria, she'd changed majors in school—hell, she'd CHANGED schools, she'd never had a steady relationship with a guy, and the prophetic dreams that had only recently ceased since receiving her injuries from the uruk-hai had probably only halted because of her own doing. Will…the strength and courage of utter resolve, was quite a powerful thing. _I need to…stop being a baby…_

Looking toward Aragorn with bright eyes, she returned his questioning gaze with a small smile of her own.

"Thank you!" It was heartfelt, and didn't make sense in the least to Aragorn. He stared at her, unsure as to what it was she was referring. But, rather than inquire or gauge just what the heck she was getting at, he merely nodded in a gentlemanly manner. She jumped upward, a sort of determination in her step that could just as easily be mistaken for fatigue as she stumbled. It wasn't until she was away that he smiled, perplexed by the young woman who evidently had a lot on her mind.

_I have no idea what the fuck I'm gonna do,_ she thought wryly, _or even what I'm supposed to do. But…I've got to stop running._

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"They had no warning…" Rem closed her eyes, smoothing her hand over her face in an attempt to better orient herself to the here and now. It was completely dark now. They lounged about the throne room, separated by their own worlds of thought. Rem had returned to her room after her small bout of enlightenment, only to find it empty. She hadn't known whether to be relieved or disappointed. Still, she'd managed to catch a few hours of shut-eye before being summoned.

Gandalf had slipped into her chamber, carefully awakening her with only the instruction that what was now occurring in the main throne room would probably be of some interest to her. Why he'd thought that, she hadn't a clue. Rem didn't understand why the wizard would assume that…not that she had turned down the invitation. Hence her current presence. But she was pretty clueless as to why he would require her to sit in on a discussion before hungrily consuming children she really didn't have much part in.

_Old codger's up to something. _But as to what that was exactly, she hadn't the foggiest. Best to sit it out and fake it. Until some marvelous occurrence swam up and bit her in the ass like it had earlier.

"They were unarmed," Éowyn pronounced cryptically," Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go…" Rem glanced toward the king, who looked overwhelmed by the grace of this bad news. As though he wished he could not believe the extent of how far his kingdom had fallen through his slipping hands.

"Where's mama?" The little girl pursed her lips demandingly, despite their slight tremble. Rem swallowed a lump in her throat at the sight, seeking to drop her gaze as the little girl's hollow eyes shifted onto her. Éowyn shushed her soothingly, convincing Rem that while the princess had no experience with children, she would doubtless make a good mother…maybe. Unconciously, her brown eyes strayed to Legolas, who did not at first return her gaze.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash." Gandalf supplied commandingly, "all the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." He leaned forward encouragingly, putting a hand on Théoden's chair. The monarch looked at his hand warily, as though he doubted the strength of its grip on the reality at hand.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak." Aragorn's soft voice echoed to the pleasantly, not needing to be raised in order to be heard. "Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now," Théoden snapped, frustration in his voice. "Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is that you want of me. But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war!"

An obnoxious munching sound then filled the silence, making Rem give Gimli a long look. As pissed as she had been, her anger now lay totally forgotten as she mused over the dwarf noisily taking his nourishment despite the current exchange between two great men.

"Open war is upon you. Whether you would risk it or not."

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." The reply was scathing, meant to intimidate and put the ranger in his place. It did no such thing, yet it might have humbled the ranger into understanding that the king was short on patience.

"Then what is the king's decision?"

Silence was his immediate answer, and stormy, turbulent eyes then met those of questing brown. Rem swallowed.

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A/N: Good news!! Two chapters (at most) until the long awaited LEMON!!! I would also like to note that by 'V-card' I was referring to virginity.

As much as I would like to respond individually to everyone who was awesome enough to review, I'm afraid I'm rather pressed for time. Still enrolled in summer school as well as working. That, and I'm sure you'd rather I get onto the next chapter before pathetically disappearing for another month between updates.

Personal thank-you's guaranteed next chapter update!!!! THANKS AGAIN!!!!! Hugs to all!!! Please keep reviewing!!!


	21. And Back

Disclaimer: Nothing is or ever will be mine…

A/N: Personalized thank-yous' at the bottom of chapter!!

Sorry it took me so long (again). But in my defense, my laptop adapter died, and library hours aren't always compatible with my work schedule.

Also, I had to attend a family wedding in Pasadena, CA. Plus, then I visited most of my immediate family who live just outside of Knoxville, TN….Won't see them again until the next major holiday, I think…

So please forgive the delays, and enjoy this next update!!

Warning: brief erotic references

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'I just keep practicing

Saying goodbye to you'

~Tite Kubo

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Rem groaned tiredly, brushing out her hair with the necessary instrument that had been on the vanity. As far as she could tell, the meeting had been most assuredly beyond any influence she could muster. Like everything else in this world.

She continued combing out the brown locks with more force than was necessary, a little peeved about being left in the dark. Not to mention kind of exhausted for the lack of uninterrupted sleep. Rem was tired, but there was too much running through her mind to satiate the need. The nuances of their words continued to writhe in her ears; a fog of useless information.

Before Théoden had even given voice to his next predictable order, Rem had arisen wordlessly, breaking eye contact with the elf, and left for her room with alacrity. There had been a slight pause in the conversation as she did this, as though her behavior had been unexpected…maybe even rude. But she hadn't turned around, perhaps afraid of what she might see. As it were, she was positive Legolas hadn't ceased looking at her.

She shivered suddenly, wanting to crumple up like some sort of pretzel and regain some semblance of warmth like she did on another chair, months ago, before she arrived in this world. She knew it wasn't because of the chill air felt in this stone chamber…It was more so that she wanted to retain some inkling of comfort. But she abstained from the childish urge of folding into such a catlike position. Besides, the skirts of her borrowed chemise wouldn't allow it.

"…_**You're hiding something. You've been hiding something…"**_

A pair of blue, stormy eyes, piercing straight through her…

With an annoyed thud, she let her head rest on the table, her thoughts chasing themselves inside of a tangled mess. Almost like her hair. Or perhaps a cat in a tumble dryer. Just because she was resolved to stop running…didn't mean she could. Quite so easily at least. She was in way over her head, here. This sort of decision would take time if was to be seen through to the end. She got up, leaving the chair and crossing the small room to squirm into the scratchy sheets of the immense bed, her cheeks aflame.

Rem hadn't realized she'd been quite so…obvious, in her attraction toward the elf. She thought she'd been such a super sleuth, too: a real cool cucumber who imparted no preference of company to anyone around her…except maybe when he dragged her beneath those dry bushes to hide from Saruman's crows that one time…or had she slipped up before that?

That's when it struck her. The dead giveaway in her behavior likely revolved around how much she argued with him…how she continually refused his help, how she deliberately provoked him at the slightest…

Hell, if they were both six years old and at a playground she might have attempted to push him down into the sandbox. Or possibly yanked his beautiful, golden hair…

"You're a boob," Rem announced softly, trying to drown out her own thoughts with the aloud sentiment. Obviously, he'd seen straight through that guise of 'dislike,' forcing her to recognize something she herself had tried not to see from nearly the very beginning. "This isn't fair," she gripped, "…he wasn't supposed to…"

_Well, he fucking did._

her face hardened, "What's it to him, anyway? I'm just some dumb kid compared to him…"

_Oh, yeah right. _Her subconscious taunted. _Some 'kid.' He kissed you, remember? Not to mention the way he keeps looking at you…reaching for you…_

She looked at her hand, making it into a fist as she thought it over for the hundredth time. It was true: he'd reached for it on a number of occasions. Ever since she had been recovered by them on the edge of Fangorn; it was just as recently that she'd allowed herself to reach for his…

Something had changed between them since then. Although exactly what, she hadn't quite put her finger on.

And those eyes…those stormy, turbulent eyes. They had often stared at her…but when had they changed from the mere habit of observance…to something else entirely? She clenched both her hands into fists, rolling onto her side as she attempted to catch elusive, taunting tendrils of sleep.

…_let's not forget he's seen you __**naked**__, too…_Rem felt her face burn at that last mortifying thought, wondering if maybe she would have the luck of suffocating herself within the sea of blankets to save herself from having to face Legolas in the morning.

_**It's…give and take, Legolas…I'm tired of fighting all the time. I'm sick of being the outsider looking in. I know I don't really belong here…but…if I'm going to live here, I want to at least not feel alone…**_

Rem started mashing her face into one of the pillows, smacking the fabric repeatedly in pained annoyance. Why the hell was she remembering all of this shit so acutely, anyway? She had said those words to him, once…beneath the leaves of Lothlórien. Besides, they still knew next to nothing about each other. She'd said as much then, too. What kind of foundation for a relationship was that, anyway? Not that they had a relationship…thing.

Aside from annoying each other: her scratching and fighting all the way, he calculatingly observing her every move…there had been nothing there at the beginning. _Maybe a mutual appreciation of…flesh or something…_ Rem felt her mind turn on her again, reliving her first experience in catching sight of the elf with his shirt invitingly open in Lothlórien

Glimpses of that beautiful skin, stretched taught over the rippling muscles of his rock-hard abs…There had a luminescent sheen in the moonlight, caressing over him just as she—

_I just want to fucking sleep!!_

Dawn couldn't come soon enough.

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Heat, permeating her pores…a honeyed warmth coating every inch of her skin. It might have felt nice. But as wave after wave of the dizzying temperature continued to assault her, like steaming waters in a boiling ocean, she felt unpleasant sweat sheath her body in sticky moisture.

Darkness all around her convinced her that her eyes were not open, save until a beckoning light began to melt the surrounding blackness into liquid shades of gray. Dully, she noted that she was barely clothed, but Rem hardly registered that as she began to take in her surroundings.

She was not alone.

What should have been cool fingers touched her wrist; the feel of them was as hot as her own. Hazy eyes, striving to clear fast, took in the sight of her companion.

"Lórien…" her voiced sounded embarrassingly hollow. But she couldn't bring herself to care all that much…Not while she was half naked at least. That particular humiliation took more of a priority here. She strove to shield herself, but he gave no sign of notice. Those ancient eyes of his did not stray from her inexperienced chocolate ones.

"It is important that you understand…things have already been set into motion." She stared at him, wanting to say something…anything. But her mouth felt thick, as if stuffed with peanut butter. He continued, that caramel hair of his glinting oddly in the twilight of tinged gray and its growing, simmering scarlet of black heat suffusing around them.

"Vairë grows impatient…" She could have rolled her eyes at this, but abstained. It was just too damn hot. The stress of having these dreams involving the Valar wasn't nearly as worse as their sudden absence of late. The tension of waiting and not knowing had been quietly eating her from somewhere deep inside. She kept her mouth shut, willing him to elaborate.

"Your hand in needed, if you as a nine are willing to…"

"To what?!" It came out as more of a gasp, unfurling fatigue and stress provoking her ire. "All this time…you knew…Don't say you didn't!" She continued, ignoring his glittering eyes, afraid he might interrupt, "I was…connected to this world. To Arda…and after extending all of these stupid riddles while I'm asleep, you have the gall to reappear all of the sudden…as if you…"

"Your injuries…were unprecedented," She managed to glare at him. _No Shit, there was a freaking arrow in my back! _ Or she thought she was…she couldn't really tell with her face burning the way it was.

"We had no way of knowing…that there would be no way of reaching you as a consequence." He continued, concerned that she wasn't convinced by this sentiment.

"You were gravely hurt…and whether through reflex or will, your preoccupations would not allow my entry as you slept…as you healed."

"Bullshi—I mean, bull! I've been…healed…for a while now," awkward choice of words, but she plowed on, "…for the most part. I've been nowhere near death since Legolas found—I mean, since he, Gimli, and Aragorn found me…" Her voice trailed off into a whisper at the look Lórien was giving her.

"That…is not altogether your sole fixation. As such, there was no singular barrier to our reaching you," Rem was baffled. For all of two seconds. Turbulent, stormy eyes passed through her mind, making her heart leap into her mouth. _My stupid CRUSH has been interfering with—how much does he—do they know?!!_ She leapt into the defense of denial.

"What?! You mean—no! No way, not true! Just because I've been feeling—thinking…about…" _You're digging yourself into a hole. Be honest, dipwad. _ She tried again, grasping at straws, "what about now? I'm no less confused than before. How could that have been a barrier…?"

"That is of no concern," he soothed, smoothing brown hair away from her visage, "regardless of your private ruminations, and how they prevented conception of meeting once again, that is in the past." His eyes looked hollow suddenly, and it was then Rem became aware of the rapidly dropping temperature. A chill coated her skin, prickling down her back.

"We have been patient, up until now. But the grains of time are against us, as they trickle past the hour glass." He placed his palm, still hot, against the freezing skin of her forehead, "remember your number…its vices and virtues…" A flash of blue, color sheathed in epiphany, erupted within her skull as the cold air ate at her from all sides.

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She slowly crept out of sleep, cracking open an eyelid to testify that it was indeed morning. Disoriented, she wondered whether or not she had slept at all. She felt tired enough that she was willing to bet that she hadn't. The fact that she had a splitting headache gave her a bit of clue. She'd done her fair share of cramming for a test, and it was her experience that pulling all-nighters—if done too frequently, could have that effect. But…there was something there…hovering just beyond her conscious thoughts…she knew…what did she know? Something about…blue…she saw a veil being lifted. Ink…parchment…nine…

Pounding on the door not only momentarily made her forget about the rhythmic pounding inside her head, it made her fall off the mattress. _OW!!_ It was then, amidst the tangle of sheets, that Rem made the belated discovery of having shucked her chemise in the night. She let out a small sound of panic as she dove further under the blankets, having no time to climb back atop the bed. The chamber door swung open, and her stomach felt like it had been thoroughly coated in lead as she caught sight of who had come to awaken her.

_Shit._

"Your presence in requested in the throne room," Ansel stiffly announced. His dark eyes flickered to where he expected her to be, but grew puzzled in failing to catch sight of her.

"Right…okay…thanks." He did see her then, arching an eyebrow at the scene she presented. Somehow, Rem felt like he was being unnecessarily condescending with the gesture. She felt her face flush, but decided to pretend that she wasn't nearly naked with gnarled hair and lying on the floor with nothing but blankets to retain her modesty.

"I'll…bring your wife's dress, too…to the throne room, I mean…" he eyed her coolly.

"Leave it here. I'll return to collect it shortly."

He closed the door abruptly, leaving Rem to half-heartedly chuck a pillow at its aged wood. She felt only a spike of anger at his attitude. Mostly, she was annoyed with everything else…including herself. _No reason to be a jerk…even if we did argue yesterday…_Didn't mean she'd couldn't share the blame, though. She got up, tripping as she sought to get herself ready as much as she was able.

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The cool wind whipped through her hair as she stood, albeit numbly, looking about her. There was a general hustle and bustle about the village. While it had been no less crowded yesterday evening, there was a great deal more of chaos and movement. It wasn't so much as a tangible excitement; more like a nervous energy permeating the chilly air.

She hadn't managed much of a breakfast in that she'd taken longer to get ready than she had initially intended. Just a biscuit, really… It had taken her a while to scrounge about the room to come up with clothes for herself (that had a likelihood of actually fitting). She mainly accomplished this by investigating the trunk at the foot of the bed.

No one in the meantime had appeared to help her with procuring, let alone applying, another corset. So she'd had to be inventive. She found strips of linen, and set about wrapping up her chest as tightly and comfortably as she was able. Her shoulder didn't twinge all too badly, so she'd sucked it up and did what she could. Rem wasn't quite confident that such a makeshift job would really help keep…certain things in place. Still, it was better than nothing. She'd just cross her arms if she had to run or something.

Rem had then, out of guilt, tried to neatly make the bed. The servants evidently had enough on the plate already than to make up a room when they had to pack up their king's house as well as their own homes in the village. Only she failed miserably. So she left it alone and set about putting the black dress and corset of her sister-in-law atop the vanity. She had to fight the urge to stuff it under the bed…to make Ansel really hunt for it. But figured there was enough bad blood between them without her provoking anything further. Especially with a war—no—a battle looming in promise at Helm's Deep.

She had arrived in the throne room, only to be informed that members of her company—with whom she had arrived—were already outside and expected her arrival. So here she was…aimlessly trying to catch sight of Aragorn, Legolas, Gandalf, or Gimli. Granted, the latter would probably prove to be the hardest to find with this crowd.

And if it all came down to a choice, she'd prefer the ranger or wizard at the moment. She felt…off balance, with the elf, to say the least. So she'd rather avoid him…for just a little bit. Unconvincingly, she tried to tell herself that such a thing didn't fall under the category of 'running away.' So preoccupied was she, that she was quite caught off guard when someone thrust an infant in her face.

Swallowing a gasp, which left her choking in a bit of surprise, she recovered enough to perceive just what the hell was going on around her.

"Rem…you are Rem, are you not?" Looking blandly at the petite, dirty blond-haired woman before her, she felt her stomach twist. The infant in the woman's arms shrieked, making Rem wince. Without warning, the baby was thrust into her arms, leaving her little choice but to grab the child or risk it falling.

"You are, I can see that." The woman muttered primly, squeezing her arm almost absently in place of a hug.

"Excuse me, are you—" Rem cut off, intending to say 'bonkers' or 'mad,' until something obvious struck her, "you're Ansel's wife…aren't you?"

"No," she answered simply, exasperatingly going back to packing things into a bag. Rem continued holding the squirming infant, who picked that moment to start crying and grabbing at her hair. Bewildered, and feeling at a loss, she tried again.

"Uh…who are you? How do you know me?" _And WHY am I holding your baby?!_

"You looked as if you needed something to do," she said demurely, answering Rem's unasked question, "and I am Ansel's neighbor. Word gets around fast…especially in these dark times. Grapevine of gossip flourishes despite anything." She looked up finally, seeming amused at Rem's facial expression.

Trying hard not to be rude, but feeling annoyed, she tried to offer back the child. For a moment, the woman didn't look like she would. But after a few tense seconds, she relented, coddling the crying babe as though she hadn't just handed him over to a stranger.

"Not a mother yet, I take it?" Rem bit her lip, wondering whether or not she ought to take offense to that. It sounded like it could be an insult…but…

"No. And not for a while, I think." She said bluntly. The woman ignored her, cooing to her child as if she hadn't heard Rem at all. She turned to leave, hell-bent on escaping. She'd rather brave Legolas than deal with this obnoxious woman. She'd taken only a few steps when it occurred to her that she hadn't learned the woman's name.

She hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at the pair of them. However, they had been joined by a third…a man, dressed as a soldier, who was speaking with her heatedly. He then purloined the child from the woman's arms, a light entering his eye and a smile growing on his face as he lifted him.

Rem stared, feeling oddly disruptive for watching a somewhat private moment. Something curled inside of her, milling around the woman's earlier comment about not being a mother. It was stupid…she was—felt too young…but still…Eyeing the squirming bundle of joy in the midst of his parents, whose names she wouldn't know—or who she supposed were his parents—was having a strange effect on her.

_What if Legolas and I…had a baby?…_Images of them wrapped about another; the hard planes of his chest pressing against her breasts, as he grasped her hips and then her…Her face twisted wryly, thoughts immediately returning to reality, attempting to banish the erotic thoughts.

_Okay, let's squash that train of thought RIGHT now. One, you barely know the guy…let alone acknowledging…aloud…how much you want him. Secondly, you remember Galadriel's little GIFT? You're being stupid…you're homesick and longing for family or something to relate to and misinterpreting your emotions as a result…_ She rattled on mentally, upbraiding herself for feeling the slightest bit maternal or whatever it was that derailed her thoughts into momentary mush.

Sighing, she started to focus on where it was her feet were leading her, and met with familiar azure eyes as she averted her gaze from the ground.

"Oh…uh, hi. Ready to leave, yet?" She idly chatted, wishing her headache would go away. And that he'd stop looking at her like that. He stared at her, yet not unpleasantly so. Unbeknown to her, he had watched the entire exchange. Had seen her face as she observed the mussing family from afar…he nodded, noncommittally. An answer just short of satisfaction as he stared just a moment longer. Stormy blue melting agitated chocolate before turning, gesturing that she should follow. Scrambling after him, she tried to ignore her racing thoughts. _What was that all about?_

A small somersault in her belly gave her an inkling…and those deliciously dirty images came back to her mind's eye before she stamped it down. Whatever she...they felt…had to wait. At least for now. And that didn't qualify as running! Or so she told herself…Procrastination, maybe. She was drawn from her thoughts by a familiar, gruff baritone.

"…They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?" Somewhere, at the back of her mind, Rem reminded herself that she no longer had a reason to be peeved at the dwarf. He had only been looking out for her best interest...in a skewed sort of way.

" He's only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn gently admonished him, "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past." She trailed after Legolas, who was following the other three into the stables.

" There is no way out of that ravine," Gandalf muttered, "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will but I fear for him." His gaze inexplicably trailed to Rem. Though she had no real way of knowing, she imagined that for a second or two he felt tempted to ask her of what was to come. He looked away, " I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses HAVE to hold."

" They will hold," Aragorn swore, strength in his quiet tone.

Gandalf turned, stroking the coat of Shadowfax, who impatiently stood within his stall before them. " The Grey Pilgrim... that's what they used to call me," he murmured, almost as though he had forgotten the rest of their party were present, "Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time. With luck, my search will not be in vain." He shook himself from whatever reverie he had fallen into, and earnestly spoke to them all. "Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

Hurriedly, Aragorn opened the stall gates, almost at the same time Gandalf had mounted Shadowfax, "Go."

They jumped back out of the way as both wizard and horse charged past. Hope and duty surging the action…and despite knowing the outcome of everything that was to come…Rem felt her mouth run dry.

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A/N: While I was at the library, I heard a baby crying…so you'll understand why that particularity found its way into this chapter…

Please keep reviewing!! I would dearly like to thank everyone individually all over again for taking the time to do so…but I hope you'll forgive me in light that I have to be at work soon. But will diligently reply each chapter for now on to all who do (as it is, personalized notes go to those who reviewed in answer to my last update, 06/22/09…and Govna)

THANK YOUS

marine maiden: Wow…you've reviewed a lot!!! I want to give you a hug!!! And in answer to your last comment, yes, all hail Gimli for going into details. Glad you liked the bit about the birth control—and seeing as how Galadriel is kind of Delphic, let's just say she's sensed an eventual…deepening…relationship between Rem and Legolas. Wouldn't put it past her.

alfalfa7: Thanks!!

ivegotproblams: Big smile right back atcha!

Govna: I simply HAD to reply to this one….you made me crack up(and curious as to how you'd manage that particular feat)!! Thanks for the review!!

Bigglesworth: Why thank you very much!! I'll do my best!!

Pyra Sanada: You're forgiven! Thank you very much, and hope you continue to enjoy!

SlyFox315: Eventually in more ways than one ::grin:: thanks!!

Jac995 : Thank you!!

Starkitty: Glad it made you laugh!! Thanks very much!!

ren-hatake: Wow, thank you very much!! I hope I don't disappoint, and that you keep reading and enjoying this…I appreciate the review!!

027 : Oops, thanks for catching the typo!! You're my new heroine!! I rely on awesome folks like you who take the time to help me out, so big hug from me!! Thanks for reviewing, and I hope the lemon doesn't disappoint!! Another chapter to go…

estrela jem: Oh, you'll see soon enough!! And as for the elf…all with be revealed in time. I'm planning on some Legolas Perspective in the next chapter, so hopefully that will help. Thanks again!!

ProRodeoCowgirl: Thanks very much!! And you're right…the road of maturity is bumpy at best, so Rem has her work cut out for her. Thanks for the well wish—appreciate it! Lemon is only one chapter away…and good luck with your college prepping!!

Crecy : Most definitely! Thanks for the thoughts, and thanks for the review!!

TheFightingTemeraire: Wow, love the reaction!! Thanks for the review!! And yeah…Govna made me laugh, too (after my eyes stopped bugging out lol) Thanks for the clear cut critique—much appreciated. Especially concerning tantrums and Aragorn's small bit; agree whole-heartedly with the latter. He isn't given nearly enough credit!! Thanks once more for the awesome review, and hope you keep reading!!!

P.s. no shame there…if you have any suggestions as a Tolkien Purist, I'm open to suggestions. This is for all to enjoy, after all! Do my best with the lemon…only one chapter to go. Woot! And good theory about Saruman, but that's not quite it. You gave me a secondary idea though! Thanks!!

Black-Sun-567: Yeah, sorry about that…hope it won't happen again on my account!! Thank you very much, and please keep reading!!

Melibells: Lol Yeah, haven't gotten hit by a bus, yet. Thanks very much for the awesome review (and hope you did actually jump up and down squealing…I do that sometimes, too…like when the live action Last Airbender movie released a small preview online ::squee::) And in as far as confidence on Legolas' part, think of it this way. He's hardly had the chance to face rejection. He's really curious (from what I gather) so I think he'd embrace whatever he's feeling once he's gotten used to the idea (and impulse hasn't ruled). Glad you liked every else's behavior, too! Thanks again, a million times over, for making fanart for my story…it's beautiful and exciting see the results…Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Ariadne Evans: thanks very much!! And yeah, he's certainly getting there…

Lift the Wings: thank you!!

Mrs. Dickow: I'd say you are far more intelligible late at night than you give yourself credit for. I cringe when I read my late-night excursions via typing…Glad you really like it, and lemon is coming in chapter 23…thanks for the lovely review!!

JadeBouchard : Thank you very much!! ::takes a bow:: yes…not enough authors seem to take that into consideration…including shaving (personally, I'd miss toilet paper, too…) Please keep reading!!

Mrs Scarlett : Thank you very much; hope I'll be able to make you laugh again!!

harmony99: Never!! I shan't give up!! Thanks, and please continue to do so!!

Emily: Very wise indeed—NEVER give out the personal stuff…glad the birth control bit made you smile!! Thanks for all the reviews, and please keep reading!!

Angel of the woods: Thanks very much!!

Lorven: Glad you like; updates on the way!!

quivering quill: I'll do my best to keep her strong!! And hey, age isn't a choice…maturity is…so I'd say she's allowed a bit of leeway in that regard. She's not the most experienced in terms of relationships. I'll go more into detail about that in a later chapter…anywhoo….Thanks very much!! I'm flattered (and most impressed) that you read it through, and for that long!! Wow!! That boosts my ego!! Please keep reading and reviewing!! Thanks again!!

VeronicaD13: Thanks!!

'lef-Marcela' : I swear on all that is chocolate that I won't take so long for chapter 22!! Thanks, and please keep reading!!

Aiko: Thank you very much!! Actually, you're the first person to catch on to that preference. It's because the number seven is my own numerology…so I'm rather partial to it!! Thanks for asking!!

33 : Thank you very much!! You must let me know when you post your own story, though, I'd really like to read it!

Avatarone3: Wow…you're making me blush!! Yup, you're right, it's from Brother Bear 2 (I'm a Melissa Etheridge nutter, to be truthful) If you could send me your own rendition, that'd be great!! I'd get a kick out of it, actually…so long as you're up to it…Thanks a thousand times again, and hope you keep reading!


	22. Onward

Disclaimer: I wish everything belonged to me…but that's a pretty big fat wish. And as the saying goes, 'if wishes were fishes then there'd be no room for water'….So please don't sue me over this nonprofit fic!!! I'm making nothing but a hobby!!

A/N: Apologies for the really long delay, but I've been painting my kitchen as well as entertaining a friend visiting from Michigan…So thank you for your patience! Lemon in next chapter!!

Individual thank-yous' located at the end of the chapter!

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'We think a flower on a cliff is beautiful

Because we stop our feet at the cliff's edge,

Unable to step out into the sky

Like that fearless flower'

Tite Kubo

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_One, two, three four…I don't wanna walk no more……five, six, seven, eight…wish this were a piece of cake…_The chill air licked at her hair, the cold breeze passing across her tired limbs. What she wouldn't give to sit down…and the dull ache in her shoulder from from her previous injury was hard to ignore. A frisson of awareness across the skin at the back of her neck made her shiver, and not for the first time.

He was doing it again. Watching her… She tripped, but hastily leapt back up into a jog with the hope that no one had noticed her misstep brought on by…fatigue. It had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not she was feeling self-conscious with the elf watching her. Her singing a stupid rhyme over and over in her head for lack of a better entertainment had nothing to do with distracting herself from him either. Rem hazarded a glance in Legolas' direction. He averted his gaze quickly enough, surveying the surrounding area as if in search of a threat. Rem nearly snorted. Just like old-times.

…_sound-off: this sucks! Sound-off, this blows!..._

Except this time, suspicion was hardly the case; probably just had something on his mind. Like how he'd caught her wistful expression when staring at that family; a child perfumed of milk and poop, coddled in loving arms. She stopped jogging, going back to her original pace. Somehow, she doubted she'd actually managed to fool anyone. Her companions were now doubtlessly aware as to how clumsy she could be. Rem nibbled on her lip, a worried thought coming to the forefront of her mind as she mulled it all over.

_Shit……um, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…toys go back up on the shelve…wait, that doesn't make any sense. I don't remember this thing any more. _She rolled her eyes, disgusted at herself for a number of reasons. Forgetting lyrics to a children's rhyme was just another thing to add to the list. So much for taking her mind off things…

_It's not MY fault I went all soft looking at…it's just…_Without realizing it, her own hand gently pressed against her middle. _It's not that unnatural to be thinking about that kind of …about him…in that way. I mean, things are different here. Babies come from…relationships… _ It had actually become greatly obvious over the better length of the day that she was the only young woman among these people who didn't possess children; little ones by her side or in her arms as they trekked across the wilderness.

Come to think of it, Rohan was the first place in Middle Earth in which she had spent a deal of time around…others of her kind. It almost seemed strange to be surrounded by mortals, now; after being in the company of her friends for so long.

It was kind of…isolating. And a bit of a culture shock. It was likely women here were married off at a young age. Éowyn seemed the only exception in that regard. But that was likely only because she needed a proper suitor: to be wed to royalty, or another of high station.

Back home, marriage was one of the least likely of things to cross Rem's mind. As had relationships in general. They had just seemed…so far off, somehow out of reach, what with the lack of direction in her life. No one had really taken up the initiative to ask her out or flirt with her (since junior high at least) and given her a reason to dwell on what exactly she was missing. And what with her father leaving around that time…

Here and now, the possibility of such a thing was becoming glaringly clear. Images swept past her mind; _fingers leaving a hot and liquid trail down her back, warm calloused fingers tangling in her hair. _The memory of that touch made her scalp tingle deliciously,_ gentle silken lips meeting her own…tentatively brushing…probing…_

She shook her head, biting her lip in the attempt of reconnecting with reality. Wouldn't do for her to fantasize here and now. She was already considered to be a bit unusual without having a glazed look in her eye. At least with strangers around her. Rem hadn't missed the fact that the people around her gave her cursory glances when they believed she was not looking. They seemed…not quite suspicious, but apprehensive all the same.

The majority of the townsfolk avoided her rather consistently. Although that could also be attributed to the fact that she was previously traveling about with a wizard, a dwarf, a ranger, and an elf; what she wouldn't give for that singular company all over again.

Or maybe rumor had circulated about her…turbulent family ties. She secretly prayed the latter wasn't a contributor to this alienation. She fervently hoped it was just because she was seen as an old maid. Better that than the bastard child of a traitor who already had a son of his own. A son with a wife, and a honorable station as a royal guard.

_Weird to think that._ Huffing a sigh, she looked around once more, taking in her bearings. The sun was due to set in about another three hours or so. Which made it likely that they were due to make camp some time soon; she was really becoming more apt at 'telling the time' than she could previously in coming to this world. Thank god.

As soon as Gandalf had taken his leave, Legolas had wordlessly taken her arm and carefully led her toward the gates of Edoras. Only when the doors had been flung open, and the march begun, did he allow her to squirm away.

She felt…exposed around him lately. He probably knew it, too. Hence the whole 'watching' her thing. Or maybe he was just apprehensive toward her behavior of late, especially after their last interlude, when he'd cut close to the truth. Too close. Personally, she still felt raw from the experience.

Rem sighed.

So far, she wasn't really great at this 'not running away' thing. Despite how hard she was trying. Stumbling, inevitably, but carrying onward just the same.

Speaking of which…

She tripped once again, quietly cursing so anyone nearby wouldn't hear her swearing. But damn, what she wouldn't give for a pair of pants…she'd had it with stupid dresses… Wiping the sweat from her brow, and crinkling her nose at the feel of dust upon her dirty skin, she trudged onward. Her private ruminations she kept, for the moment, to herself. Without intending to, her mind began to turn itself to the exhausted subject of the Valar…and just what exactly they meant her to do…

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Inexplicably, he felt his eyes drawn to her once more. She was avoiding him; that much was certain. As much as the…sentiment…irked him, he could nonetheless understand her inept reasoning. A slight scowl marred his beautiful face. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

It was obviously due to their latest fight. Whether because she was angry in being provoked so soon after arguing with her brother or she had feared the truth in his judgment, he could not quite discern. Although if he had to pick between the two, he'd select the latter. When one stoked her ire, Rem could be a raging lioness. As of so far, she had done nothing more than go to great lengths in shying away from him.

A quiet sigh bled past his lips, wondering when they would be past this. No matter how many times he had promised himself that he would avoid such… confrontation…their discussions inevitably led to just that. Idly, a wicked thought whispered through his mind that it was probably his best defense: that it was either argue, or thrust her against the nearest hard surface and show her just what impassioned reaction he was striving to control. He shoved that dangerous notion toward the back of his mind: such a thing—even to contemplate—was tactless.

Even so, he had never had so strong a reaction to any woman before. Let alone a child-like, fire-tongued mortal…with thick chestnut hair, deep brown eyes that were the envy of richly colored earth, and a voluptuous figure that nearly made his mouth water…

This was ridiculous.

Experience or not, he had little idea what to make of their situation. There was a strong attraction between the two of them, but worry and doubt gnawed at his mind which made him hesitate; sparks of these had ignited and kindled when he caught sight of Rem's soft expression as she looked upon a family coddling an infant. Was it right to pursue relations with her, when the war of Middle Earth had scarcely begun; what of when she became pregnant? What was her life expectancy? If anything was consummated, theirs would be a binding contract; would he die in grief, like so many of his kindred eons before when she died? Lúthien and Beren came to mind…as did the romance between his friend Aragorn and the Lady Arwen; descendants of a promised tragedy.

However strong these arguments, another part of his mind countered them. Lady Galadriel had given her medicine to keep from conceiving; it was unlikely she would have a child for months. No matter her life expectancy, in that Aragorn had said as much reflecting his own mortality, that a life without the one you love was no life at all. A wry look appeared on his face. The Uruk-hai had shown him this much as well; he doubted whether or not he would have the strength to walk away from Rem at any rate.

She had aroused his curiosity and admittedly his suspicion in the beginning. Infuriated him with her subtle oddities and unyielding mouth. But those feelings had merely proven to be mere paper around a gift in face of the torrential feelings she evoked in him now. Her eccentricities made her appealingly unpredictable, while her clashing emotions—easy and honest enough to read—gathered his rapt attention every time. When he thought about how he had almost lost her those several days ago…The strength of these feelings nearly petrified him, deep down, as foreign and new to him as they were to the millennia-old prince.

But losing her frightened him far more than he would care to admit. The likelihood of such a thing rested like a stone inside of him. For if she was not killed now in the coming war (given that there were no guarantees of safety during battle), it was now known to him and the rest of their companions on some level that Saruman had been after Rem from the beginning. For a brief moment, he regretted the fact that Aragorn had not allowed Théoden to slay Gríma…surely he would bring word of the girl's presence among the lingering fellowship…

Perhaps she could be sent to the undying lands…? Surely his people would allow such a thing, considering she would be their princess, and bear the future heir of his line. Assuming they would survive long enough for that.

Unbidden, devious imagery of their first encounter swept through his mind; how soft and pliant had been her skin…her mouth. The welcoming warmth of a woman's flesh against his own was something he would relish …Rem…

He blinked, the length of the shadows around him spoke of how long he had been lost in reverie; sweet remembrance painted with desire and longing. His azure eyes sought her silhouette once more, against his better judgment. It was fruitless to ignore what lay between them…but he would rather she come to him willingly, or not at all…

She was not now ignorant of the path that could lead them both to mutual gratification. He would leave it at that. The impression she had made upon him in so short a time span had been unprecedented, but undeniable. And while their being together would be a decision of her choosing, that did not mean he would fail to make his…opinion…known.

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"Gandalf the White," Saruman bit out viciously, "Gandalf the Fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?" His thoughts turned over themselves venomously, like crackling leaves twisting through autumn. It wasn't that he was merely angry about the most recent string of events; things had soured long before them to poison his original plan. It had begun far before he had ever summoned Eorl's brat from that other world.

No, not other world. The future of this one.

In his beginning near frantic search for the One Ring, many doubts had taken root in his mind. Not necessarily of his exact time of success, but more so how he might discern what was to come in the future. What obstacles lay in his path: what must be done to ensure what should be. That was approximately the time he first became aware.

A subtle, sentient whispering of the parallel…of a world beyond this one; the future that lay beyond the present. It had taken much time, and even more research to perfect a means by which to send another ahead: to survey the whispering cosmos that he had little doubt was a foresight. In time, he had selected a likely candidate: a man of Rohan whose own dreams of grandeur could be manipulated nicely. Syrupy sweet words and painted imagery pressed him into his service. But something went wrong. Something…he had overlooked. He had been too far from his influence for too long a period to truly fall completely beneath his yolk.

Something Eorl had seen or heard had shattered his control over the lesser son of man completely. He had rebelled: staying just beyond his reach in that future world. Blending nicely thanks to some of the spell work that allowed him to speak a fairly popular language of the times. When more than a decade had turned, Saruman had lost his patience completely. However, in his haste, he had not known exactly where Eorl next appeared in his return to Middle Earth.

Still, he'd known where he would go.

He'd sent his followers: wildmen disguised in the failed finery of Rohan, dragging him back against his will. With the threat of his wife and son being extinguished, Eorl had succumb…at least to a point. While Saruman prided himself on his strength of will and the discipline of maintaining it, his rage at being disobeyed had been far greater that day.

In striving to extract any information from the broken man, he'd accidentally killed him. However, it was by that mistake that he had made a fortunate discovery. A miniature painting…of a woman, and a young girl. There were several of them…and while initially disgusted by Eorl's failure to keep from breeding in the future—a world beyond his understanding—a curious idea came to him then.

It had taken more research…and great pains with the palantir before he was able to espy the child of the other side. The future girl, known as 'Rem'…more plans paved the way, and it was not long after that he was able to summon her to this world of her past…Middle Earth. It had been far more complex than he could ever have imagined, and as such, once more failed to bring her accordingly to where he had wished her to appear.

He had then secretly sought her out, only to eventually find from use of his spying crows that she was among the Fellowship. A lucky stroke, he had thought. He could almost her her pleading voice as she told him what it was he needed to hear. What was needed to win this war…how it would be done…and countless other information that would prove invaluable for Tomorrow.

Yet it had all gone wrong…his Uruk-hai had failed him. He had acquired neither Halflings or the woman…and now Gandalf had risen in power. Yes…things had gone astray, and he could nearly taste blood he was so enraged. A sudden sound made him pause, and a shadow across the blackened, glossy walls of Orthanc allowed that he was no longer alone. Yet then that offensive odor of a stead, a reminder of the ever-hated Rohan, ascended his nostrils. It was merely Gríma

"There were four who followed the wizard," Wormtongue now spoke, diligently unaware of his smell, "an elf, a girl, a dwarf, and a man." A sharp break of his inattention had him raptly listening to his spy, though his back remained turned. So…Rem was still alive. That was something. But the mention of a man…something inside of him twisted, uneasily. However, he feigned disinterest. It would not do to give anything away. He sniffed, disgustedly.

"You stink of horse." The rustle of fabric announced that he had turned, before he then broached the subject.

"The girl…of how many years did she appear?" While unlikely, she could merely be a harlot the man had taken from the wayside. He needed to be sure…

"Old enough," he smiled, albeit blackly. "a young woman of fruit bearing age with brown hair and eyes, whose appearance constantly drew the gaze of the elf." Saruman snorted, as if he had little care pertaining to his. However, he latched onto and devoured these words. So…Rem had attained the interest of the elf prince of Mirkwood? That could mean a number of things: that he felt paternal or merely protective of her, or that she was managing to elicit something altogether more forbidden…A reversed Lúthien and Beren… However seemingly insignificant that detail, he stored that aside for later as he pressed on.

"The man, was he from Gondor?"

"No, from the North," he returned absently, dabbing a rag at his bleeding lip, "One of the Dúnedain Rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was poor. And yet he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers." It was exactly what Saruman had dreaded to hear…swiftly, he attained the proper book, to confirm or disprove what it was he suspected.

The promising sketch of the Ring of Barahir looked back at him, mockingly. "So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's heir," he ground out, "The lost king of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago," he snapped the book shut, nearly cracking the protesting binding, "it matters not." He swore in a darker tone, "The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras…" For the moment, he would hear more from Wormtongue, and perchance an opportunity would present itself. In light of Rem's continual presence among the remaining Fellowship, it mattered little whether or not this ranger would sit upon the throne of Gondor. That girl was the key…to unlocking the door to many things.

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"You are strangely quiet." Rem turned abruptly, torn from her reverie by the soft voice at her left. She smiled wryly at Éowyn, guilty of being lost in thought.

"…I've…got a lot on my mind," she answered truthfully. Éowyn nodded, her gentle, cool smile brittle compared to her bright, stone-colored eyes. Somehow, this gave Rem reason to feel that she understood even more fully than had Éowyn answered with many words. They walked in silence for a time, Rem feeling increasingly awkward in journeying beside an infamous shieldmaiden of Rohan. Ansel's haunting words whispered at the back of her mind, and she wondered at the friendliness of the noblewoman.

"So…" she began, willing to break the silence. "Umm…how's it going?" A blank look was her answer, causing Rem to hastily clarify her question. " I mean…how are you?" The previous, guarded expression of confusion melted away.

"I am well…Thank you." Another silence descended, albeit briefly.

"I…would like to thank you. For what you've done for me…" Éowyn waved her hand easily, the gesture surprisingly casual.

"It is no trouble…You are most welcome." A wicked twinkle then entered her eye, "are you yourself… 'well'…?" Rem couldn't help but smile impudently.

"Won't complain."

"Would you?" She returned, curious.

"Doesn't really matter; no one wants to hear it." Éowyn smiled at this, once again beyond mere comprehension. Inexplicably, Rem felt like she could doubtlessly trust her. This was the first time they had spoken at any great length that was unprecedented. Or at the very least, didn't involve strapping Rem into a corset or other. Speaking of which…

"How fairs your shoulder?" The question almost caught Rem off guard. Almost. Come to think of it, she really should have seen it coming.

"It's not too bad, thank you."

"It was an arrow wound, was it not? Have you much experience in combat…?" Rem shrugged, or tried to as her upper back gave mild protest at the movement. It was most definitely better than it had previously been.

"No…nothing like that. I was…just in the wrong place at the wrong time." That was the best way she could think to put it. Without giving too much away. Just because she had the initial urge to be open with the woman didn't change the fact that she was still a stranger. She was still wary of her own countrymen, as it were. Even of those above her station. _Shit…Ansel must be rubbing off on me for THAT to leak into my subconscious._

"Oh…That is…most unfortunate." Whether that was directed at the fact she'd been unlucky, or that she was untrained for battle, Rem wasn't quite sure.

"Do you fight much?" She already knew the answer to that, but figured she'd keep the conversation going all the same.

"No." It was a bit stark, but Rem figured it was more so borne of disappointment than any intentional rudeness.

"Ye shouldn't have to, young lasses." Gimli's gruff baritone sounded close beside him; mildly surprising both women. Frankly, Rem couldn't recall Gimli being all that fond of riding horses. Not that she could really blame him: long way to fall.

"I disagree, sir," Despite her serious tone of voice, an amused smile painted Éowyn's expression. Seemed she knew she could hold her own as well as any man, or dwarf in this matter.

"Hey, you're the one who tried to teach me how to throw an axe," Rem jibbed mildly. Gimli blustered slightly, while Éowyn's amusement seemed to grow along with her interest at the accusation.

"Did he really?"

"Really. Although, 'tried,' would really be the operative word. I wasn't any good. More of a knack for archery…." Come to think of it, she still needed a lot of practice to allow for such a statement, "Well, sort of."

"Ye'd think the pair of you were a couple of dwarf maids," the dwarf chuckled. Éowyn reached out and grasped the horse's reins companionably, giving Gimli more of a reason to continue alongside them. Something which Rem was grateful for. True, she no longer had the urge to kick his butt…yet that didn't mean she wouldn't talk to him about…certain things…later.

"Are they rare among your people, Master Dwarf?" Her voice was slightly mocking as she teased him. He chuckled once more, musing aloud on the subject.

" It's true you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men." Rem noticed Éowyn glance back toward Aragorn, following suite out of curiosity.

He made a swift gesture with hi hands, murmuring almost too softly for their ears, "It's the beards...." Unperturbed by the small interruption, Gimli rambled onward, making both women giggle. Still, Rem felt a small, wriggling feeling at the base of her gut. She had forgotten…well, almost forgotten of the unrequited attraction between the future king of Gondor and the Lady of Rohan. A small piece of her wished, selfishly, that she hadn't remembered. Maybe she could…somehow warn her? The subtle glances of her fine eyes, sparkling with need, were suddenly a portent of heartache to the plain brown eyes of Rem.

"And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women," Gimli pressed forward, gaity in his rough voice, "And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!... Which is of course ridiculous… Whoa!!" With little warning, the horse shot forward, galloping quickly in that Éowyn lost her loose grip on the reins.

"Gimli!" Rem stumbled after him, wincing as he fell off after a short distance. _Guess his fears aren't unfounded!_

Éowyn was rushing forward just behind her, helping Rem to gingerly set the dwarf to rights as he struggled to brush off the nasty fall.

"It's alright, it's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate."

"Oh, yeah, SURE it was!" Although she managed to find that a smile was bleeding past the sarcasm, and Éowyn's laughter was like silver bells across a crispy, wintery meadow. It was times like these…that she could almost forget that she felt out of place. Knowing what she did, even as she was somewhat aware of the covetous glances Éowyn was once again shooting toward Aragorn.

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"What the hel—I mean, what exactly is that?" Éowyn gave her an affronted look.

"It's stew!" Rem blinked. Aparently, beyond managing feminine upkeep and handling weaponry, Éowyn hadn't much instinct for anything else; or, to be fair, she hadn't the skills at anything remotely culinary. Looking at the gooey wads of meat, which should have been prepared separately from the half-cooked vegetables, she felt sorry for the poor bastard that would have to shove that down his throat to please her. Unfortunately for her, she had a pretty good idea of just who that might be. Hopefully, he had taste buds and a stomach that matched an iron will.

"Well…bon apatite`…" Overlooking, or perhaps ignoring Rem's wrinkled nose, she inquired curiously after the remark.

"What does that expression mean?"

"Uh…it's another language; French. It means 'enjoy'…more or less." _Aragorn…I'm SO glad I'm not you…_Unable to meet Éowyn's smiling face, she looked around. Refugees of Edoras all about them had followed suite and set up camp. It vaguely reminded Rem of an immense camping trip…gone wrong. Given that there were only a smattering of homemade tents amidst the cooking fires, and there would be no promise of s'mores or ghost stories about the fire. Gimli then had the misfortune to wander by. Éowyn brightly called out his name, making him turn.

"Gimli?" Catching Rem's subtle, instant shake of her head, as well as widening eyes, he braved a glanced at the contents of the pot. He possessed more grace than Rem would have thought in refusing a bite, though she couldn't miss the telltale crinkle of his dwarfish nose at the odor.

"No…I couldn't!" Éowyn shrugged nonchalantly, gamely arising as she picked up the precarious stew in search of another to try its contents. Both Rem and Gimli visibly relaxed, though Rem continued to inwardly cringe at the sight of her presenting Aragorn with a bowl. Gimli then made as if to turn away, before Rem stopped him.

"Gimli…" he froze, and it came to her that he expected some sort of admonishment. He was well aware that she would by now be wary of his placing himself in a paternal role around her of late. She hesitated at that realization. It…wasn't worth it. _He was only looking out for your best interest…_She shooed the voice away, changing her mind. he didn't deserve to be upbraided over so small a thing…_Almost wish he were my father…_Eorl, after all, had been a traitor to his kindred. Against her better judgement, she found herself wondering _How many others know that?_ Heaving another sigh, she said something else that came naturally to her lips.

"…have you seen Legolas?" His body language loosened, and without a word he pointed in the elf's direction. He wasn't hard to miss; a regal, shimmering being of gold-kissed hair and skin in the twilight; clothes of browning green like autumn leaves blending into rocky outcrops as he stood atop a rise of earth toward the other end of the encampment. Acting as a sentry, no doubt.

Getting up, she dusted off her dress, gamely. Pretty painfully aware that she was just stalling for time. Secretly, she wondered the heck had possessed her to change tactics…. Just what exactly what she going to say? She bit her lip…Gimli had already wandered away, though she was aware of his gaze. He would doubtless watch their exchange.

All the same…Something needed to be said. And this time, she wasn't going to run. Azure blue didn't latch on to her softly approaching footsteps, at least not at first. The darkness of the sky deepened, as the shadows stretched in clawing anticipation.

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A/N: Next chapter is the long awaited lemon!! Also, I'll more or less be shortening the battle sequence. Let's face it: my reiterating the whole thing would be rather boring…and would pale in comparison to…other…activities. Please keep reading (and reviewing)!!

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THANK YOU'S

IheartStewart20: Thanks very much!! Glad I'm hitting home, here…And hope Rem continues to amuse!! Please keep reading!!

Minako: Thank you!!

Melibells: Wow…you've just submitted a singularly long review….I could give you a hug and kiss!!! ::cough:: okay, in as far as the birds and the bees…I'd imagine they'd just let their little elflings come to them when they had any questions…Oooh, more pictures!!! Did I mention you're amazing?! Let me know as soon as you've got some more posted!! Also, I've noticed that you have the 'pond scene' for your profile picture…very nice!!! Well, the possibility of naughtiness DID cross my mind…but I felt her dreams regarding the will of the Valar had been a bit neglected as of late.

Shame on me. But chapter 23 is the much-anticipated lemon, so hopefully that'll make it up to you! In regards to Ansel, his disgruntled expression is a sober reaction to the less-than-perfect sibling he had been led to believe was otherwise…Don't forget, he's more than likely had a built-up expectation (and a little jealousy) of the child who had helped keep his father away from him through most of his childhood. And he's just discovered her lying on the floor, nearly naked…lol Ah yes, a Sokka-ism indeed. The kind of visage my step-grandmother gives me when I display my less-than-acceptable table manners….hehehe

Glad I'm not the only one who had 'maternal moments'…figured it would be realistic for Rem to have them too, especially with Legolas having elbowed his way into her subconscious (attraction leads to relationships, relationships to commitment =baby elfling)

Thanks for the compliment regarding Gandalf; he can be hard to depict sometimes, as he's obviously very knowledgeable (and quite possibly amused by that fact), but is just as unlikely to know everything all the time…he's prone to mistakes (hence the whole Frodo carrying the Ring thing so many years down the road from when he should have realized the One Ring was 'right under his very nose')

Hope I won't disappoint in the lemon aspect—wish me luck! And thanks again for taking the time to read, review, and draw!!! You're absopositivelutely awesome!!!

P.S. By the way, if Legolas weren't available, I'd probably elope with Sokka…just thought you'd like to know lol Thanks again!!

marine maiden: Hey, now that's a possibility…lol As for the baby thing ::shrugs:: figured it might seem natural enough…babies come from relationships, after all…and being in a world which fosters early marriage and family can tend to make one feel a bit alone…and longing for someone. Doesn't help she has a certain elf in mind…Thought it might show how she has her mind set on a more…permanent…type of relationship. Hope the grassland and fall (as well as Lego-butt's reaction) will hold up to your expectations! Thanks again for reading and reviewing!!! Oh, and more hugs to you!!

lef-Marcela: Many apologies…life's been coming at me fast…but I'll do my best at being more consistent!! I'll definitely strive for more dialogue (thanks for the comment!! I appreciate critiques) And thanks for reading and reviewing!! Happy reading!!

Mrs. Dickow: Thank you very much!! I appreciate your input (and glad I'm getting those aspects across) and hope you continue to enjoy!!

Crecy: Thank you!!! Hope it'll all become clear soon enough!! Don't want to leave anyone in the dark!!

Emily: Thanks, I appreciate it!! I'm pretty flea-brained when it comes to typing and posting…some day, I'd like to go through and edit quite a few things….but it really helps when people like you take the time to show me exactly where that's needed…so thanks again!! Glad you think so about Gimli—I dare say he'd make a good parent, especially for Rem. He's definitely got a soft spot—much as he would rather hide it lol

Pouf Forayer: Thanks very much!

Windofaswhisper: lol thanks…and yeah, she'd make an…interesting mother. But I have seen worse in the real world!! Though she still has time for improvement (but I think the children would definitely share they're mother's sharp tongue…hehehe)

Avatarone3: No problem—I'm striving to keep up the communication for now on! Thank you very much for the compliments; I'm really touched that this story means so much to you—so thank YOU!!! I'll forward you a message with my e-mail via the messaging system on fanfiction—and please let me see any art work you do!! I'm excited about the prospect!! Thanks again for reading and reviewing—so very much!! Hugs, Lauren!!!

Black-Sun-567: Thanks very much!! Next update is on the way soon!! And thanks for being understanding and patient—very much appreciated!!

Liliesshadow: Thanks!

VeronicaD13: Don't worry—the 9 thing will come about fairly soon…Glad it's drawn you in, though! Yeah, I've actually met people like her brother's neighbor: hand you their baby nonchalantly at a restaurant and wander over to the buffet (actually happened to me; think she mistook me for one of the staff)…..people are crazy sometimes! Thanks for reading and reviewing, and hope you enjoy the next few chapters!!

Golfbabe87: Thanks very much (for both reading/reviewing and understanding!!)

Kaya Nah: Thanks!! Hope you continue to feel that way (as well as continue to read and rewview)!

027: Don't worry, I'm guilty of the same offense—Currently reading this Harry Potter fanfic and while I've been obsessively reading it, I haven't quite gotten around to writing a review (writing is so brilliant and my schedule is so hectic I shamefully haven't quite made the time to do so….) Glad you liked the baby scene—I can relate to it myself (random people handing you their offspring when you least expect it can be a little daunting—at least if there's some fore-warning it's not such a surprise). And thanks for the concern, but I don't think the baby crying in the library disturbed me too terribly (granted, it may have influenced the brevity of the last chapter) but I'm from a large family, and noise is something I'm fairly used to. Thanks again so very much for consistently reading and reviewing my work—I find it both enjoyable and helpful!! Your critiques have always pointed me in the right direction…So thanks again, and please continue to read and review (or even just the former if your sneaking a read at work).

Msmarvelfreak: thank you very much!! More is on the way!!

Narugaaralover: Thank you very much!! Glad it really cracked you up (had a ball writing it)!! Hopefully I can draw the same response in later chapters…Thanks again!!

CalmingWater1098: Thank you very much!! Hope you continue to feel that way—it may take a turn for the sappy (with the whole romance/lemon bit).

Song in the woods: I hope you will too, and thanks for taking the time to do so!!

SlyFox315: Really?! Good thing I included him then!! Thanks for the review, and please continue to read!!

Eva1983: Wow, thank you very much!! More updates soon!

Rayne91: Thank you very much; glad you think so!! Glad you love it—I'll update again soon before you can change your mind lol

BErinHaribo: Thanks!! That aspect was fun to write (couldn't resist entitling that chapter 'protection' therefore for a number of reasons…) as well as Gimli's fatherly streak. Please keep reading and reviewing!! It's writer-fuel! And by the way, the review you left for chapter 16 was really funny—made me smile! Really cute how you got the real story and this mishmash confused—I'll take that as a compliment!! Lol And as for heavy instead of heaving…lol well sometimes that's not too far off the mark (wish guys has weight on their chests sometimes)…As for how Rem looks, I'd recommend checking out Melibells artwork on DeviantartDOTcom…She's made some lovely fan art for this fiction (she's a member on this site, too…so you can track down her by author name). My particular favorite is a depiction of the scene where Merry and Pippin walk in on Rem when she's changing (in Moria) so she throws her bag at them lol She's a very talented artist!!

bearaveo: Thank you very much!! You've definitely increased my ego today!! I'll keep at it and will get another update posted soon!! Sorry, but I didn't receive your e-mail address...(you can check the 'review' section of this story to see what I mean). The easiest means to communicate on this site is through the messaging system available for members/authors…so go ahead and sign up and message me through there…Look forward to hearing from you!!

ren-hatake: Thanks very much!! Yes…I've met women like that random one with the baby (they're more annoying and kind of scary in real life)! Hope you're not too overwhelmed with the college preparations (my classes start Monday, and I've been through the whole 'moving every few months experience,' so I can relate...)! May you retain your sanity in the months ahead!!

Punk Rocker Fairy: Why thank you very much!!

Bottom of Form


	23. Longing

Disclaimer: If anything Tolkien or otherwise belonged to me, you can bet the movies wouldn't have been rated PG-13….As it is, no profit is or ever will be made on my behalf.

A/N: I'd like to note that I'll be cutting out the battle sequences of Helm's Deep (subject to change if you all demand it). But positive you all don't want a rehash of what oh-so-obviously happens.

Besides, makes more time for the Long Awaited Lemon!! Please enjoy and review!! My Excuse for such a long absence is located at the end of the chapter…

WARNING: Lemon chapter/very graphic material contained within. PG13 rated version of the chapter can happily be e-mailed individually upon request.

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'People have hope because they cannot see

Death standing behind them'

~Tite Kubo

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The dull crunch of earth eventually gave her away. Or maybe it had been her heavy breathing; she was rather nervous. He looked intimidating, standing there in the waning sunlight as it washed over him. His golden hair, silver-tinted as darkness brewed overhead, flowed elegantly in the wind as his attention turned to her. His eyes looked heavy: deep and calculating amidst an endless sea. Legolas didn't look too happy to see her.

Although that could have something to do with how the shadows were painted across his facial expression. Rem swallowed, finding her mouth unnervingly dry. For a moment, she wasn't even sure of what to speak. They stood there, regarding one another in silence, her eyes now unable to trace any higher than his chest.

"I…I wanted to ask you something." She immediately regretted it. The sentiments, the burning questions she felt that needed to be spoken had flown, along with her courage. Now, all she could engage in conversation was with a stupid, irrelevant question that had been at the back of her mind since she had sprained her ankle at Caradhras…and he had held her in his arms. A small lump was beginning to form in the pit of her stomach, like a growing block of ice. She bit her tongue, welcoming the chill of pain it entailed. _This is stupid._

No words passed his lips, but she was sure his eyes were speaking volumes as he gesticulated for her to continue; he was listening.

"It's….I…was wondering," acting braver than she felt, she met his stare, "….why don't you prefer to addressed by your title…?" he looked slightly stunned at the inquiry, as though it was not what he had been expecting. Hell, she hadn't really been expecting it either. But it had slipped out…Still, he collected himself rather well. It vaguely reminded Rem of a disturbed body of water: tranquil once again as soon as the rock-casting ripples have ceased.

"…You wish to know this?" there was amusement in his tone, there was no mistaking it.

_Crap…Knew I should have wandered away soon as I was tongue-tied. Should have lied and said I had to pee…_ She nodded, slowly, unsure of herself.

"I….am not one for titles." He stated it simply, so much in fact, that Rem quickly gave him a puzzled look.

"Could you elaborate?" he looked like he was about to smile, but abstained as he hurried to explain.

"I prefer to be judged by the actions of my own character, rather than the actions of my house." _Ah…makes sense…Thorin and company come to mind…That was a definite 'oops' on his part._ He continued, interrupting her thoughts.

"I would rather my companions relate to me…by who I am, and not what I appear," She nodded, absently, missing his heated stare. "As a friend….or, a…companion," he murmured, his voice lower and more sultry in listing the second. It immediately recaptured her attention. That block of ice she had felt in her belly shot up into her chest, giving the cavity about her heart a breathless squeeze.

Those stormy eyes of his seemed to take all of her in, and Rem felt hot and cold snap through her nerves in a shocking rush at the implications. God, those deep, stormy eyes….they were so dark, they nearly reminded her of a rare chocolate…Maybe one with blueberries…

That was when she became aware of the darkness around them; camp had quieted, cooking fires were now merely smoldering, discerning that most of its inhabitants had gone to sleep. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled back noisily as she hastily beat a retreat. She…really ought to…stop distracting him. Pronto.

" Oh…um…I really…should go to bed." A small noise of protest sounded in her throat as she realized how much of an invitation that might sound. He stood there, motionless, and she began misreading his stance in every available negative context, "I mean…I'm tired…Thanks for….Goodnight!" She shuffled away, dignity hanging by a thread, as a bemused elf watched her rapid departure.

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A velvet blackness surrounded her, enveloping and cradling her within its embrace. A woman's voice softly murmured in her ear just then. It sounded worn and as aged as the caverns found in the deepest crevices of the earth; like a mother, a sister, or a lover.

"_**Have you made your decision?"**_ Dully Rem could hear a growing sound of battle; the clash of steel coupled with groans and cries.

"I…what do you mean?" The darkness was seeping away, leaving behind a milky, growing light. By now, Rem could actually make out the distinct shape of her hands, of the rushing movement all around her. The blurred forms became more distinct and sharp before her very eyes as soldiers, whose garb looked vaguely familiar. The voice continued, as if it had not heard.

"_**The Battle of the Field of Celebrant…was fought many ages ago…."**_ Rem felt a twinge of annoyance, feeling as though she were being ignored. But before she could bust out a reply, something caught the corner of her eye: a youth whose shield glinted in the pale haze of sunlight, mounted atop a painfully beauteous horse. Despite that, she felt her stomach lurch at the scenery around her: there was so much blood. It caked limbs, the earth, and quite possibly the chilling screams which pierced the very air. It very nearly made her nauseous.

"_**Eorl," **_The familiar name made Rem wince,_**" son of **__**Léod**__**, led his people, the Eorlingas, to the aid of Gondor. **_A Stab of realization went through Rem. This wasn't about her father…It should have been a relief, but she somehow couldn't deny the barest trace of disappointment. The voice continued, droning over the crash of a fight within a memory all around them.

"…_**Eorl the Young, tamer of **__**Felaróf**__**, the first of the Mearas…was victorious. As a boon for their services, Cirion, Steward of Gondor, granted the Horse Lord and his people land in Calenardhon…and an oath was sworn…"**_

All sound of battle ceased, and darkness hushed over the bleary scenery, making Rem blink. A scuttle of relief tingled down her spine. The voice began once more, devouring the empty silence.

"…_**On behalf of his people and heirs, should Gondor be attacked, the Rohirrim…descendents of the Eorlingas…would ride to its aid."**_ The voice ceased, waiting expectantly.

"Uh….okay…?" _What has that got to do with anything?_

A penetrating sigh…as though disappointed that the truth did not seem clear.

"_**Rem Jane Eltrin…daughter of Josephine of Michigan and Eorl of Rohan, your footsteps have led you far. They now lead toward the path wherein Gondor will call once more for aid: this oath must be honored by your people…and your part must be set into motion…"**_

Rem blinked. Was…she being told that she would have to fight in the upcoming epic battle? She already knew that the final—well, next to final conflict would occur in Minas Tirith. But this voice…was it telling her that this was how she would make a difference? Her stomach twisted into a knot; that couldn't be right. The violent entanglements she had thus far engaged with her companions seemed something altogether different than this war. After all, orcs weren't human. They were twisted, corrupted creatures that hungered for flesh and chaos…And she had known all along that her friends…most of them…would survive each conflict.

But…the prospect of this inevitable war made her heart squeeze; she would actually see people die. Living, breathing, human beings would never see another dawn starting at Helm's Deep. How could she possibly brandish a weapon knowing that her striving to help could only end in disaster? She couldn't save Boromir; this was surely only another promise of failure. Didn't the Valar realize that?

"Umm…excuse me…but…I think you've got it all wrong. I…I really suck at fighting. I mean, I'm no good," past failures flashed through her mind…of all she had failed to prevent; there was blood on her hands. All that would be…would simply occur. She swallowed. "I…don't know who you are…but…there's no way I can make a difference by picking up a sword…er…bow and arrow." She waited, tensed for a response.

"_**You misunderstand…"**_The voice was either amused or exasperated by the sound of it; a warm hand now grasped her own. Green eyes, pale skin, and chocolate hair framed a beautiful face.

"_**Lórien… did not express himself well if you believe you are meant for battle."**_

Rem stared at her before erupting, "Then what am I still doing here? I get that Saruman summoned me for some deranged reason, but what has the Valar to do with anything? What have you guys been planning…?! What are you playing at?" Silken fingertips brushed her lips, instantly quieting her. Rem suddenly realized that her eyes were wet; silent tears of frustration escaping from the windows of her soul. She felt lost, and a little angry…and while Rem wasn't trying to be rude…she desperately now wanted to hit something. Or someone. _Can't someone just fucking tell me what's going on?!!_ The woman spoke once more in a soothing tone of voice.

"_**You are the Nine: an influence to the world and a connecting thread of this world to your own…past, present…weaves the future."**_ Rem gave a start. That was impossible…Middle Earth…wasn't real. Let alone the ancient world of her own. To predate everything, it would have to be beyond ancient…What about dinosaurs and cavemen…? And there was no written record of anything like this—anywhere, ever. Just an elderly gentleman's composition tucked into books of fantasy…

"_**The pen, as they say from your time, is mightier than that sword."**_

"You're off by a few centuries…."Rem mumbled grudgingly. Still, that last part made her think…Her eyes ascended to the woman standing next to her, feeling hopelessly small and all the more confused.

"You…you're Vairë…" The member of the Valar smiled in answer, murmuring gently even as she scolded Rem.

"_**You are running out of time, child…"**_ A small touch to the back of her head, as if to stroke her hair. Yet there was a sudden flash of blue; color sheathed in epiphany, erupting within her skull ….

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Rem woke up with a sharp intake of breath, sweaty despite the cool air. The sun was just tangling its probing fingers over the horizon; a buttery yellow marred with varying hues of gray. There lingered a familiar blue along the sky line as the stars died in its embrace. She swallowed shakily, fragments of memory swiftly falling away like sand from her cupped hands.

She…there was something that she had to do. The Valar…one of them had come to her in another dream. But…it didn't seem like it had been Lórien. It couldn't have been. Aside from that eerie blue now piercing the sky in its dying embers, she remembered the color green; vivid green eyes, impossibly old. Something about the number nine…something about a pen. _Do I need paper?_

Feeling foolish for letting that last thought cross her mind, as well as trying to take the enormity of all this in, she flopped back onto her back. Only to let out a dry gasp of pain as she realized that hadn't been the brightest of ideas. Apparently, there was a fairly large-sized rock beneath her pallet.

_Son of a…..!!! That hurt!!_

She rolled over, the dull throb in her back answering the pounding in her still-healing shoulder. Whatever she had remembered receded to the back of her mind. Tucked away for later. Right now, there was a more pressing issue to contend with. Like nursing her bruised back. In spite of sleeping with a loosened corset, she'd still felt that rock as though it had actually been ripping into her skin. This was promising to be…a really long day

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She really hadn't been that far off the mark. The odds really just seemed stacked against her. After a meager breakfast of some hard bread and some water, they were on the move once more. The day stretched on. Almost as long and winding as the wind that constantly bit at the travelers across the open plains. Rem longingly thought of a bath, even as she groped deep inside her mind in the pitying attempt that she might remember something from her dream. However close she had come to understanding whatever it was the Valar wanted her to understand, she now felt along the cusp of it. But, for whatever reason, it stayed frustratingly out of reach. It was beginning to make her moody. It didn't help that Legolas had resumed his constant watch over her as well.

A small part of her: the one that was upset over being unable to remember anything and felt annoying helpless in face of what was to come, wanted to take out her frustrations on the elf. Perhaps scream at him to paint a picture, because it might last longer. But she refrained. As moody as she was, this was no time to start an argument.

A small pang sparked inside of her at that last trail of thought: Merry…Pippin…_Oh God…are they doing okay? Do they think I'm…dead? How are they coping? _Guiltily, she realized that she hadn't thought on the pair of them for several days. She knew that they ought to be fine…they were with Treebeard, after all….but…just because they had their physical health, didn't mean that they weren't in need.

As much as their unwarranted provoking of her temper early on in their journey had annoyed her to no end, that didn't mean they hadn't managed to wiggle their way into being viewed by her with endearment. She wanted to see them again…she just absolutely had to. See that they were all right…maybe crack a joke or two…and there was the fact that she still had to pay them back for seeing her half-naked within the Mines of Moria…

She sighed gustily, looking upward toward the fiery disc of the heavens.

"Is there a reason you now avoid us?"

Rem started at the sound of the velvety rich voice as it sounded right alongside her. Legolas no longer looked at her; he now instead gazed ahead as if to survey the area. Which he very well might be doing. Even as he struck up conversation. She felt a small dart of annoyance in her chest for his callous observation.

"I've just been…thinking," she muttered quietly, "there's been a lot on my mind lately." _Gimli's in need of my telling him that he needs to relinquish his attempt at being a father figure, because I'm more in need of a friend…in a really delicate matter, no less…Gandalf's gone, seeking aid…Aragorn's got enough on his mind…and you…you've been more observant than I'd really care to admit. And that's just the tip of the iceberg!_

"On all of our minds, I do not doubt." She gave him a suspicious look. Somehow, that sounded less like an outspoken agreement and more like a loaded statement. _For God's sake, what does this guy want from me?!_ A more perverted portion of her mind readily supplied an answer, though she did her best to squelch the imagery as she gave a defensive reply.

"Well, there's a lot going on."

"I see…" To her chagrin, he was now suddenly looking at her. All of her…she could feel that stare as if to her very bones: penetrating them…making them feel like no more than water. Rem felt like she could get lost in those beautiful, stormy eyes. Abruptly she looked away.

Gently, as though afraid of startling her, she felt him take her elbow; guiding her away from the main crowd. Suddenly nervous as to what the elf was planning, she made a subtle attempt at resisting by dragging her heels and twisting away her arm. However, it did no good. He did not relinquish his careful grip, leading her in a way that brought her own gravity against her so as not to pull her along. It felt…manipulating…and a raw blush of anger heated her skin at the prospect.

Before she could really comprehend where it was he had led them, she found herself against an immense boulder alongside a rocky outcropping wall of stone. Oblivious, or perchance unconcerned, the people of Edoras continued along their way. Never pausing as the strange young woman in their midst was taken to a more secluded location almost alongside their road.

Rem felt her eyes widen considerably, even as her heart began a raucous tempo that would be impossible not to hear. Especially for elven ears…especially as he leaned in close. A well-toned hand came alongside her head, entrapping her between himself and the rock as he leaned in close. He had yet to fully release her arm. Instead, he smoothed his calloused fingers against it, like one would stroke a spooked horse. She could feel the heat of him even through the fabric of her borrowed gray dress.

For one delirious instant, she thought he was going to kiss her…he was so close. Her chest was very nearly pressed against the hard planes of his own, and the knowledge of this made her breath hitch.

There was something there…in his eyes. They had darkened, surely…and there was an intensity there that she had very seldom seen. It made her want to shiver: to wrench her arm away as she stormed away and rubbed at her skin to awaken herself to the loss of his intimate proximity. Neither moved. He looked as though he were searching for something…it was on the tip of his tongue…and would no doubt soon be upon hers.

That was when Háma's scream rent the air. Backpedaling, the intensity within Legolas immediately shifted. It seemed he cursed something in Elvish; but those god-damned, deliciously deep blue eyes hardly faltered from her own brown ones before he spun away and rushed to investigate. Another cry was hastily sung, creating pandemonium amongst the throngs of villagers nearby the crevice in which Rem dubiously lingered.

"Wargs!" A violent squeal announced Legolas' success in butchering an orc, coupled with his own violent shout. His voice was thick with something…It could have been anger…or even more likely: frustration.

"…A scout!" Numb with confusion, Rem scrambled away from the rock, joining the panicked confusion even as she sought a familiar face. Gimli, Éowyn…even Ansel. Dry fear was clutching at her throat because of what was happening…of what was to come. Whatever bewildering emotion had been kindled between her and the elf was shoved roughly aside for the time being.

Her gut wrenched with the horrifying knowledge that Aragorn would fall in this impending battle…Not literally of course. But taking an unmeaning swan dive off the side of a cliff was scarcely positive.

She cursed herself as a fool; she should have warned him. Blurted out that this would occur but he would be fine…more or less. Hell, it wasn't as though Gandalf was around this time to stop her. _Shit…I should have told Legolas and Gimli…and __Éowyn…poor Éowyn…!!!_ Time seemed to rush together in a nauseating blur, minutes passing by like seconds. All the while, Rem mentally beat herself up: what she could have done…should have done…

Rem let out a small sob, even as she rushed into the crowd, barely hearing Théoden's niece as she called out for all to head toward lower ground, and to stay together. _Together…oh God…will they want to be, after this…?!_ It was a horrifying thought: this next misunderstanding may very well prove to be the last stray to break the camel's back…Losing Aragorn, their leader, even for a mere day, might prove to be the cause of their unraveling…

As she hurried with the throng of villagers, striving to make it to Éowyn's side, she thought she noticed Ansel. It was but a brief glance, but she could have sworn the a rider with a gleaming helmet looked fixedly in her direction, before galloping off with the rest of the soldiers. It made her stomach churn…and while she knew they weren't on the best of terms…she prayed to whatever god or member of the Valar that might be listening that he return unscathed. There was so much left unsaid between them…and their relationship, however stained, just couldn't end like this. It couldn't…

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Rem was convinced that if she ever met who had invented the corset, she'd kill him. You couldn't breathe while wearing the damn thing. And she was certainly short of breath and heaving fiercely enough when Helm's Deep graciously came into view. There was a stitch in her side, gnawing at her flesh. The still healing injury of her back throbbed mercilessly as well.

Heck, she ached all over. She bit back a hysterical giggle: she was feeling miserable over a trivial jog (granted, for her life) while dozens of soldiers were as of this moment suffering worse than that. Rem groaned, massaging her left side in the vain attempt to amend that wickedly painful cramp. She felt worse than petulant…she felt outright guilty.

There were sighs and cries of relief all about her, namely from women and children.

Warily, she glanced upward, catching Éowyn's eye. It was unintentional, though their eyes met nonetheless. The noblewoman's eyes were dark and pebble-wet, like the first moment Rem had ever laid eyes on her. It was clear that she was looking for someone…looking for someone who wasn't really there. Or rather, she was staring in the direction she craved to take…a step closer to the one to whom she felt an undeniable pull.

Wracked with guilt once more at the sight of this…of her eyes now taking in her own appearance, Rem closed her eyes. _Oh God…please don't hate me…it's…it's not my fault…I couldn't have…Nothing I would have done could have made any difference…_ The silent pleas from inside her heard were not heard by anyone, and that was all that she could now acknowledge.

_Toughen up, Rem…this…it's not over yet. And no one's angry…yet. So pull yourself together. Be ready…for when the shit hits the fan. _

Nodding to herself, and giving herself a firm mental shake after that minor pep talk, she reopened her eyes…and took those final steps that would take her to Éowyn's side: the only place where she could think to be. Said woman watched her with shadowed eyes, as if a veil had been dropped over them. Still, she awaited until Rem fell in step beside her before resuming her own.

_I should say something…before…_

They had not wandered far, and the stone fortress loomed anciently before them like mysterious folds in the mountainside.

"He'll be late…coming back." She bit her tongue reluctantly, wishing that she could put it more plainly. But something made her hesitate. Even when Éowyn fixed her with a slightly puzzled look at the sentiment.

"What do you…?"

"Trust me," Rem interrupted briskly, locking eyes with the Lady of Rohan as best she could, "it's…complicated…and you…everyone…will think that he didn't make it. But he will come back. I promise." It was a humbling moment, locking eyes together like that, speaking with their eyes in a way that words never fully can. Finally, as if satisfied that something meaningful and important had been conveyed, Éowyn nodded briskly.

"When that…moment…arrives," she worded carefully to Rem, obviously still a bit bemused, "I shall strive to that end."

Rem nodded, sighing quietly to herself. Okay, so she'd pretty much broken—well, more or less made a hair-line crack in the promise she had made to Mithrandir. Still…she had faith…that maybe, it wouldn't be such a bad thing Besides, when she really thought about it, this would be her first successful attempt at conveying the truth to someone that predated the event. Fate couldn't screw with her any more than it already had…right?

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They made their way back, hollow, as if in the haze of some vanishing dream. Or perchance, Gimli thought dully, more likely a nightmare. Surprisingly, the elf was not as subdued as he. A wreath of anger was barely sheathed across his features, marring the confusion that was there also as they continued to ride for the Mountain Keep.

Though he would not say it aloud, he was certain the two emotions were related, and were nothing more than a mere garment to encase his true grief. He suspected this was a whole new experience for Elf Prince of Mirkwood; to have had a close friend—nearly brethren—slip from life's fingertips upon the same battlefield.

Doubtless, immortal as he was, death was not unknown to him. But it most certainly was not common for him to lose those who were close. It must be…strange for him. As sorrowful as Gimli was at Aragorn's death…for who could have survived such a fall?...He felt empathy for his elvish friend as well. While loss was never easy, the first experience of it usually cut the deepest.

Tears carved their way across his cheeks, tangling into his beard as the cold wind rushed by. He kept up his hold upon the saddle, allowing Legolas to steer Arod across the bitter plains. Little was said amongst their remaining party. All seemed lost within his own thoughts. Many had been lost…and it was only the beginning.

Gimli brusquely told himself that it was just the chilly air causing his eyes to water…but failed to believe it entirely. Aragorn, son of Arathorn …a great man among men, was assuredly gone from this world. What was worse, he and the elf alone would not be the most affected by this. He was not unaware of the looks the Lady Éowyn had graced the ranger with…nor was he ignorant enough to believe that Rem would be unmoved.

In the depths of his mind, a small stirring of darkness and doubt drudged up a dangerous thought. Had Rem known from the beginning…what would befall Aragorn? Just as she had known about his kindred and about Boromir…?

In the depths of his mind…he wondered.

But a small ray of hope remained…when Gandalf fell, it had not proved fatal. Perchance…this too would be the case. Yet beyond a doubt, he knew that were this to splinter and break apart—if their companion truly had fallen to his death and this hope was dashed as a consequence, he would need to speak to Rem. They needed to know…

Legolas' thoughts fared no better than Gimli's. Anger was there, but confusion was also. After proving loyal and offering advice to the King of Rohan, Théoden had nonetheless given no hesitation in leaving Aragorn behind.

He refused to believe the man was dead. It was just…ludicrous.

He had survived countless other circumstances of improbable odds…and yet…he was confused by the prospect of that, too. Was he merely deluding himself? Had Aragorn really died in that fall? Gimli seemed to think as much, and he could hardly blame him. Though doubtless they both hoped otherwise. As much as he had come to respect the dwarf as well as his judgment, he had not known the man as long as he had. The descendant of Isildur had seen and done much…and had survived, time and again…

Surly this time was no different. His heart called for him to turn back, to seek him out. They were nearly kindred, what with the experiences they had shared over the years. But…he could not. There was the consequence of the armies of Isengard catching them within the open, and whatever fate held in store could not save him. Helm's Deep needed to be fortified; preparations needed to be made and seen to. Aragorn would have wanted it this way; he had once told him that he was one among many…that while life was precious, the most important thing was to see to those weaker than oneself.. And…He couldn't explain it…but he felt that Rem needed him just as desperately.

Strange…especially when he knew it impossible for her to be injured. But still…he could not find the will to ignore his instincts…even while his heart was torn asunder. He could only pray to the Valar to watch over him…and look for his safe return. He had to trust to that. Surely they had more in mind for him that this dreary…apparent…end. Something else was at work here. Something he could not quite grasp, nor completely deny.

A lingering memory stole across his mind. Of how Rem had tried to steal away when Mithrandir had fallen through darkness to the other side, only to later return. Surely she would not attempt so stupid a tactic again…but…she was indeed herself. And knowing her…she just might. Whether or not she knew of Aragorn's…fall…was of no consequence, or so he told himself. Especially not if she threw her life away in the attempt to run from grief or guilt; she was good at running, he lamented…

And so he rode hard, feeling turned inside out; raw to the very core. Everything weighed heavily upon him. Gimli's panicked attempts to not fall off Arod's back were barely acknowledged by him as they picked up speed.

He needed to see Rem. He had to know…

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"Make way for the king!" the commander's bellow made Rem feel like she had swallowed an icicle. Miraculously, it wasn't melting. Rather, she felt more like it was going to make her throw up. Oblivious to her distress, Éowyn eagerly grabbed her hand and rushed them toward the entry way.

They bustled through the crowd, all eyeing the returning warriors from their defense against the warg riders. Rem actually found herself praying that she would trip: sprawl onto the ground and upon the stones in a dead faint in the hopes that the earth would mercifully swallow her whole. She dug her heels in halfheartedly, striving to put off the inevitable…not wanting to face them. She couldn't. They'd see it in her eyes…once more, she had—once more—apparently let someone die…it was all her fault.

So what if Aragorn wasn't really dead? No one would realize that until later. And until then…they were blame her. It made no less than perfect sense. It would all be her fault…Would Legolas…could Gimli….ever forgive her…?_ I…I have to stand my ground. I won't run away…everything will be fine. It's fine…And…I'll see Merry and Pippin again…And Frodo…and Sam…_

" Make way for Théoden!" Time felt as though it were standing still. While all around her, things seemed to happen in an outside rush. Like being inside the center of a storm. Gathering clouds were her only warning.

"So few…" Éowyn's voice sounded small, but clear as a bell—sharp in the freezing air. " So few of you have returned." She squeezed Rem's hand, as though seeking reassurance. Fearfully, feeling it was her only course of action, she squeezed desperately back.

Théoden dismounted, contemplating his words, choosing carefully as he spoke to his niece, "Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives."

"My lady...Rem…" Gimli's voice…was rough and subdued with emotion. Rem could only recall hearing that tone of voice once more from him…back within the Mines of Moria. Gathering what little courage she had left, she looked toward him, as did Éowyn, expectantly.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" Her grip loosened from Rem's, whose unprepared hand unconsciously tried to reach for it once again. Gimli's voice was hoarse with emotion. Unwilling but knowing what he had to say.

"He fell..." All at once, Éowyn paused, obviously shaken.

"How …?" She glanced quickly, beseechingly, at Rem. A singular question hovering within her eyes. But she didn't return that look…she couldn't. Instead, she bit her lip, eyes filling with tears. _You're being stupid…You KNOW he isn't dead!!_ Her body apparently didn't want to listen. For there lingered the smallest doubt…a small, niggling and traitorous thought…that maybe, just maybe…this one thing had changed. And Aragorn really was dead. That this would be the one thing her presence here would change…the beginning of the end of the chain of sequenced events.

"From the cliff's edge…" Gimli's gruff voice sawed through the last of Éowyn's nerves. She stared blindly at him, before her wet eyes assailed those of her uncle, who did his best to avoid her heavy look. Next, those glittering, darkened eyes looked toward Rem, who cringed at their attention.

"…You knew…" It was but the breath of a whisper, but it still cut Rem to the core. Without warning, Éowyn rushed past, knocking painfully into her shoulder as she rushed away. Rem stumbled back, blinking wildly, refusing to cry…she wouldn't cry. Nothing bad had happened…_It's going to be fine!!_

But her resolve all but crumbled away as her eyes came to rest upon another who now stood at Gimli's side. He stared at her, un-accusing, but no less haunted. Those gathering storm clouds she had felt seemed to break. A dry sob rose in her throat, and she nearly turned away. All seemed to be staring at her as they passed, but she didn't care.

_They hate me…oh, god…they really…I should have…_She twisted away, intent on running from those loaded stares, but someone grabbed her first. Rem struggled half-heartedly before dissolving into hiccupping sobs. Legolas held her close, stroking her hair as he had done another time. But this was different. He was different. And all she could do was cry.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…god…he…I know he's…." He shushed her soothingly, and Rem could feel something like hope blossoming inside her chest, making it feel tight. Was he…not upset with her?

"There was nothing you could have done…"

"Nothing," Gimli echoed. But it sounded more like a question to her ears. Rem kept her face smashed against the elf's chest, unwilling and unable to look the dwarf's way.

"He's…coming back." She murmured, feeling unattractive for the smudged nose and red face she had from all of her crying. Legolas' voice was nearly imperceptible.

"What…?"

"He's…" she hiccuped, resting her cheek against his chest, holding onto his shirt like a child, hoping she wasn't breaking some stupid rules by confessing, "he isn't dead. Merely…injured. He'll be here…by nightfall." She could now see some of Gimli's face as she braved him a glance. Mithrandir would be furious. _If he ever finds out…_

His bushy eyebrows shut upward at the announcement. He opened his mouth, to question her further…or perhaps even contest her assertion. But Legolas cut him off.

"We will take your word…"somehow, she felt that he sounded less than sure of himself as he said it, but didn't offer further comment. "but Rem…you mustn't blame yourself." She nodded, hesitantly. _Easier said than done._ She couldn't forget Éowyn's face as she had turned away.

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She twisted her fingers anxiously. Éowyn had barely spoken to her. In the briefest of words, the woman had given her a dagger. Saying in a clipped manner that it was itself not meant for her protection. Should Orcs breach the fortress, it was up to her—as well as the other women—to give the children a quick end before taking their own lives. It would be far less painless. The prospect made Rem's skin crawl. So did that penetrating look the noblewoman gave her.

Legolas had scarcely left her side. Something for which Rem was grateful. Surely Éowyn would have ripped into her by now. She discarded that thought immediately. She wasn't the type to seek out another merely to chew them out. She was first and foremost a Lady…not some hormonal teenager that would lash out if threatened or provoked (or felt herself to be so). More than likely, she would question Rem, in all that she knew.

Of how she had known about Aragorn's inevitable fall, for surely she had worked that out within her own mind. But that…would have been just as welcome a prospect as being chewed at. Ranting, raving, and screaming would actually be preferable to being calmly questioned in a dead whisper. Though she was loathe to admit it (aloud at any rate) Gríma might have rubbed off on her… She shuddered. Yes…So Legolas' companionship was indeed a blessing.

Gimli had not been long in taking leaving of them; he had left to clean himself up a bit as Legolas had continued to rock Rem in his arms. At the back of her head, she wondered if it had been his way of giving them some privacy…but it was difficult to tell. Especially when he had muttered something about being buried beneath two wargs and a goblin. Not a lovely picture. So maybe he really had just wanted to get freshened up…_and maybe pigs will fly._

The elf had then accompanied her to assist her in doing the same; seeking some method to help her wash her (by that point) messy face. They'd settled on wetting a cloth from his canteen, watching her with gentle eyes as she scrubbed. That was when Éowyn had approached her, handing over the dagger along with its explanation.

"It would seem…she expects you will be both be taking refuge within the caves." She gave him a blank look.

"That's…strange." He arched an eyebrow at the comment, causing her to go into more detail.

"I mean…she's not the type to…I thought that she would insist on guarding her uncle. That staying in the caves would be…beneath her." He shrugged carelessly, gently taking her hand and guiding them both toward the path Théoden and his aids had taken. It was likely he might want council. While guests in his kingdom, himself and Gimli were nonetheless a fresh set of eyes about this fortress, and their perspective might prove useful in council of war.

"That may be so," he replied slowly, inquisitive in the assessment, "but that does not mean she would neglect her duty to her people should she be commanded by her uncle to look to them. What she would prefer may very well not come to pass. She knows this. She has seen it before." His tone of voice suggested his own familiarity with heavy responsibility.

"Born to privilege with specific obligations, hm?" Rem deadpanned lightly, earning a few stray looks from the soldiers milling about as they ascended the final stairs toward Théoden's keep.

"That's gotta suck." She said the latter under her breath, but Legolas heard it nonetheless. He had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling at the comment. He was unfamiliar with the term, but could not fail to misinterpret its meaning. He drew her hand against his chest, forcibly drawing her close as he whispered into her ear—pausing at the top of the stairway.

"yes…I imagine it does… 'suck." He was rewarded by his trouble by a scarlet blush creeping across Rem's face, and she wriggled away and out of his embrace. She did not, however, completely let go of his hand. He took that to mean that she was chagrinned by the comment, or perchance was slightly mortified in being overheard. He was only half correct.

She couldn't help it; having Legolas whispering 'suck' in her ear really sounded provocative…and maybe a little pornographic. It made her mind wander in dirty places…so maintaining close proximity wasn't something that seemed wise on her part; especially since (with her luck) she'd probably wind up doing something stupid or offensive.

Still…she didn't let go of his hand for a particularly different reason. He, for whatever reason, was trusting her. While she fully expected Gimli and Legolas to hate and resent her, after what had happened to Aragorn, they chose to believe her words…or at the very least, stick by her side. Even though Legolas was doing most of the sticking…_Picture it: a naked elf and a jar of honey…_

Rem faked a cough, hastily resuming their walk as she told her subconscious to shut up. He trailed slightly behind her, rather amused by the response he had elicited, in spite of the heavy thoughts concerning Aragorn at the back of his mind; the same place he stored other worries pertaining to their journey: the four kindred hobbits, Mithrandir, Sauron and the One Ring…

And in the back of his mind, another worry brewed: nurtured by doubt and woven with a steadily rising fear…about Saruman, and what he wanted with Rem. Was she even destined to stay in this world? His wandering thoughts were abruptly cut off as Gimli spoke. He was hardly aware of when the dwarf had even made his appearance.

"Ah…I was just about to find ye… Théoden's called for an official council, and requests every hand available," he scratched his beard idly, not quite meeting Rem's eyes.

"Thank you, my friend," Legolas allowed a small smile to tug at his lips, hastily tucking away his darkening thoughts of late. The dwarf grunted despondently, before pushing open the heavy doors that led the main chamber of the housed Keep. It was a fresco of activity: many were rushing about, talking at once, and gearing up for war. Many of Théoden's closest advisors, along with his two generals and a few captains of the guard, sat around what looked like a heavy oaken table as the rest rushed about.

Rem's grip on Legolas' hand stiffened momentarily, and it didn't escape his notice as to why. Ansel was seated at the table as well, though no discernable expression crossed his face as they approached. Many eyes flickered toward them at their approach, but activity didn't cease.

"No women are permitted," it was not unkindly spoken by Théoden.

Just a matter-of-fact statement plainly put. Not that it managed to tiptoe around Rem's feelings. _Huh…that must be why Gimli wouldn't look me in the eyes…he knew this would happen._ A quick look to her left confirmed her suspicions: Gimli was looking anywhere but at her, scouring the room as if he would be ordered to describe the contents of the room later. _That…or maybe he's still suspicious…about Aragorn…?_

Rem swallowed that last trail of thought, pushing it as far into the back of her mind as she was able. She wouldn't dwell on…that. There were more important matters as present. Besides, every moment drew the ranger nearer; she had to believe that. She cleared her throat, speaking as politely as possible.

"Forgive me, my lord…but I have no place else to be," the king looked up for the scrolls of parchment he had been studying, his original keen glance hardening into something else as he looked to her once again. Legolas stiffened at her side, but she ignored it. _Can't hurt to ask, right?_

"Lady Rem," there was a faint trace of iron in his tone, "I do not wish to repeat myself." She almost deflated at the demand. At least until she heard a fake cough coming from a nauseatingly familiar voice. Ansel was smothering a smile, though at what exactly she wasn't quite sure. It was unmistakably meant to be overheard. Quite frankly, it pissed her off.

_I just asked a simple question! What the hell is so funny about that?! _Ansel turned to another, murmuring something into his companions ear that made him as well as a few eavesdroppers smile patronizingly. Rem felt her insides smoldering, wishing she could rip viciously and verbally into her bastard half-brother.

_What the fuck is so funny? You think you're better than me or something? _Seething, she did what came most natural. Being sure to let the jerk glance her way once more, she intentionally flipped him off in plain view.

"What meaning does that gesture have?" She turned toward the young man who spoke; a soldier curiously watching the exchange as he meant to hurry by. _Guess showing your middle finger isn't exactly universal… _Crap, she hadn't really considered that. For some reason, she'd assumed Ansel would recognize the gesture and get offended. Embarrassed, and not really wanting to explain the finer details of the insult, she said the first thing that popped into her head. She could feel many eyes watching: puzzled stares burning into her back. With Legolas and Gimli among them. She made sure to avoid the elf's questioning gaze in particular as she squirmed. Oh, _sure, NOW Gimli looks me in the eye…_That last thought trailed away weakly.

"It's umm…a form of greeting," she excused, untangling her fingers from a bemused Legolas in her haste to depart. Ansel was unmistakably watching her now, inspiring another thought from Rem, "especially between siblings!" She crowed, turning to wave in Ansel's direction as she flipped him another bird in a somewhat more cheerful manner, "later, bro!" She then scuttled out as quickly as her legs would carry her, holding in a hysterical giggle that threatened to escape before she had made it beyond the threshold.

She later sat brooding upon the steps, debating inside her head. Once her humor had waned at the situation, her thoughts had sobered at the sight of preparation going on around her. Funny that the one person that should be barred from a war council was the only person who knew what was going to happen. She scuffed her heel against the stone moodily. _Still…that doesn't exactly forbid me from telling them… _But she had promised Gandalf. Therein lay her dilemma.

But, that had been months ago…and felt like another lifetime. Should she now break that oath? _You kept your promise…to Mithrandir…_The words flickered in her memory, along with a pair of stormy blue eyes. She flinched, sighing to mask the unpleasant choice before her. _But…if I…Surely there's more at stake now. They'd…they would understand…wouldn't they?_

"What troubles you?" She jumped abruptly at the sound, gasping out in surprise. A familiar touch graced her uninjured shoulder in a gesture of comfort before the elf gingerly took a seat.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you." She choked out an apprehensive laugh, the syllables dying in her throat.

"It's…it's fine. Don't worry about it." Silence, but for the lull of pandemonium of soldiers humming around them, descended once more.

"Can I ask you something?" _Wow, that couldn't have been any more abrupt._ She held her breath, counting the seconds as he hesitated.

"You may."

"I…was wondering…You…you remember my promise…to Mithrandir?" He nodded slowly. She pressed on, hoping to find the right words to express what it was she wanted to say. "I was thinking…that…perhaps I—"

A brief pandemonium of noise broke out, crashing over them from the gate. Without warning, Gimli barreled down the stairs, bellowing in the disguise of a fierce baritone as he did, "Where is he? Where is he? Get out of the way. I'm gonna kill him!..."

Rem found herself crushed to Legolas' chest as he sought to shield her from the dwarf's excited rampage; lifting her up and into his arms in no more than a few quick movements. Feeling a cross between frustrated and amused by the turning situation, well aware of what now transpired, she let out a small sigh. _Guess I won't get any advice, then…about what I should do…_ Feeling Legolas' eyes on her, she looked up only to catch her breath.

The look he was giving her…it was making something tighten and melt inside her chest all at once. His eyes were suspiciously glassy, and he smoothed hers hands down her arms and over her fingers. It was stupid: she knew that look wasn't really meant for her. He was just grateful that his friend was still alive…that she was being credited for something she'd really had no hand in at all. But…it felt nice; to be thought of as the heroine…even just this once, when she most obviously was not.

The sound of Aragorn's approach roused both from their respective thoughts, and they turned to face him. The most beautiful smile lit up Legolas' face, then faded into a wry amusement as the ranger was stopped in his tracks by the elf as he intercepted him.

"Le abdollen (You're late)," the elvish slipped effortlessly from his lips, the pronouncement making his friend pause, taken aback.

Rem couldn't help but smile, reflecting a similar facial expression. Then Legolas spoke once more, squeezing Rem's hand gently as he did, his eyes dancing over his male companion in scrutiny, "You look terrible." The smile Rem sported watered away, rolling her eyes and musing inside her head, _emotionally constipated males…_ Rem turned her head, catching sight of Éowyn nearby. Her fine, dark eyes mirrored water-swept pebbles as she took it all in: the man she yearned for alive and breathing. Her eyes then alighted upon herself, so Rem gave a tentative smile in return. _See? I told you the truth! _ However, her attention was ripped away at the feel of silken lips brushing her hand. Rem snapped her head around so fast she thought she might have whiplash.

Legolas was giving her an intent look, her hand hovering close to his lips as he held it close. Something deep lingering within those stormy eyes… giving her the sensation that she was falling; since when had the intimate moment been violently shoved toward her and Legolas?!. Aragorn then cleared his throat, interrupting the unwarranted exchange.

"Gladyou'reback, Aragorn! ThéodenshouldbeintheKeep!" Rem spoke out in a rush, pointing hurriedly in the allotted direction as she strove to squirm out of the elf's suddenly firm grip. _What is he doing?!_ Her mind sputtered, coming up without an answer, even as Legolas carefully handed a cherished trinket to the ranger that had seen residence inside the folds of his shirt.

"Hannon le (thank you)," Aragorn murmured, clapping him on the shoulder in the elvish gesture. His eyes then fell to the discreetly struggling woman at the elf's side, amusement showing in his face. It was either at her expense in trying to escape the situation, or perhaps because his companion was unwilling to relinquish his hold upon her.

"I will see you later, Lady Rem." She started at the unwelcome, formal title, awareness creeping up her spine at the allusion; of her hands entwined with that of the Prince of Mirkwood. _He thinks--?! I'm not Legolas' mistress!! That birth control thing was a fluke! Everyone around here's gone nuttier than a fruit cake…!!_

"It's Rem!" Her shout drew a few onlookers, making her squeamish. _Oops…bit loud._ She laughed nervously, refusing to look the strange elf in the eye as her mind raced. _It's misplaced gratitude, it's misplaced gratitude, it's misplaced…_

"…Rem…" _Crap._

Her chocolate brown orbs ascended to his oceanic blue ones.

"Your promise must be kept." _My wha--? Oh…right…to Gandalf._ Luckily, she didn't say this aloud, forgoing to chance to sound more stupid that she already felt.

"I….will strive to that end." Without removing his gaze, he gently raised her hand to his lips once again, making her swallow. She should have stopped him…she could have…but…_Why…? Why does it matter any more…?_

"I…I'd better go. I think…" her eyes darted toward where she had last seen Théoden's niece, "Éowyn needs me."

"Until later," he murmured. _Much, much, MUCH later…_

She drew her hand away slowly, as if in a daze, and he finally relinquished his hold. Then she turned and ran like hell.

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Darkness crept over the land, much as the lingering people of Rohan did. Those unable to fight, women and children included, were being herded into the caves. Rem had spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to locate Éowyn, and when she had she had been roped into hauling supplies into the caves which they were now all to reside. She didn't mind the hard work so much. It was more the fact that Éowyn herself didn't engage that annoyed her. Then again, she was royalty. So maybe it was more of a class issue. Didn't make her feel less sore, though; plus her shoulder still wasn't fully healed.

_Boy, am I stupid._ She winced as an old woman stumbled into her back, making her lose her breath at the unpleasant shock it inflicted. _…And in pain!_ She gritted her teeth, wandering along, thanking her lucky stars that Legolas had not found the chance (or rather the excuse) to come and find her again. She wasn't ready for this. When Aragorn had turned up, the elf had acted…funny. No, scratch that: he was acting intense. So…she could use the breather from his…attentions.

_We'll…we'll talk later. After the battle._ Someone plucked at her skirts, making her look up. A child stared up at her with wide, dark eyes and dirty blonde hair. His face was smudged, but it…looked so familiar.

"It's you, isn't it? His half-sister?" Nearly tripping at the sound of the hard tone of voice, Rem sought out who it was that had spoken. A woman, short in stature, now stood alongside the child, holding his small hand. She had pretty, but small, features with tangled blonde hair falling past her waist. _Oh shit…tell me this isn't. _But it was. It had to be. She swallowed, coming to a stop inside the immense cavern liked with moisture.

"You…must be Ansel's wife," she glanced downward, scrutinizing the child's now familiar-looking features, "…and son."

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Not much was spoken after that. A small blessing considering the cause: soldiers came, recruiting young boys to fit into their ranks. Mothers and sisters pleaded, crying out and weeping as the adolescents—who had so much life yet unlived—were led away by the regretful troops.

A gentle hand found its way into Rem's, and she started until she realized that it was not calloused like that of another's. This was undoubtedly a woman's hand. Éowyn had wordlessly slipped next to her side. Her grip was firm, but gentle. It was exactly what she needed at that moment as Rem squeezed back; no matter how many times she had heard this tale…how many times she had read the story…nothing was as troubling now than the fact that this was actually happening around her. Men were going to die tonight. Many of them…would never be seen alive again. She released a shuddering breath, refusing to let herself cry, unaware that her eyes had already begun to water and betray her.

"That dagger I gave you," Éowyn's voice was quiet, resigned with a certain tension, "keep it close."

"Right." Her reply was automatic, no longer chilled by the weapon's purpose. It wouldn't come down to that. Living in this world so far had taught her that much at least. _I wonder what will happen…once the war if over. Nothing else was really written about what occurs next…_Rem hastily pushed that last thought away, uncomfortable with the idea. _I don't even know…if I'm going to stay here permanently. There's always the chance…of Saruman sending me back…the Valar fucking things up…or…or dying._

A brief rush of memory streamed through her mind: of Legolas' seeking eyes when they had first acknowledged another in Rivendell. Of when he'd held her on the archery range and she'd sobbed her heart out. Of the look he gave her when she had been about to run away. That kiss they had shared—

_Not everything is certain,_ she reminded, giving herself a firm mental shake. _There are some things…even I can't predict from a bunch of old books. Like Legolas, for example. _Sighing tiredly, feeling the exertions and stress of the emotionally wringing day weigh heavily upon her, she took a seat on a damp rock.

Hours passed, stretching along like days. And in the dark gloom of the stone-drenched cave, the luminous lake glittered as they waited…And waited…And waited…

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It was imperceptible, at first. The crash and muted roar of battle began to wane, only to be followed by the dreadful thunder of a battering ram against the door of the keep. It seemed even more frightening than the explosion from earlier, for it testified how far the Orcs now were to their haven. Many women shouted, screaming out in panic as they grabbed hold of their frightened children.

"We're going to be fine!" Many turned to stare at the young woman who stood alongside Lady Éowyn, but many others did not bother to heed her words. Rem sighed, annoyed and beyond frustrated. All of this waiting was beginning to get to her. They would be fine…she knew they would be. And while some had listened to, and clung to her earlier profession of the events she knew to occur outside (along with the claim of being a seer), the weight of panic dampening the atmosphere like a wretched blanket remained.

Suddenly, a welcome sound erupted from what seemed to be the very roots of the mountain: the deep bellow of the Horn of Helm Hammerhand.

"Almost done," she muttered to herself. This earned her a strange look from Éowyn, who would not be parted from her side. It would seem she was some sort of comfort to others these days…_Legolas is off his rocker…it's not like I SAVED him or anything. I just knew he hadn't bit the big one…_ But the noble woman had the decency to look abashed when Rem gave her a telling stare. Her sister-in-law, however, had no such qualms. She stared down her nose at Rem, coddling her child close.

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He wiped the sweat from his brow, grinning tiredly as he meandered past the entrance to the caves. Many of the women and children had left the safe-haven to search among the fallen or be reunited with young ones, eager to be freed from their pensive imprisonment and out in the cold, glittering sunlight.

He recalled Gimli's face, as they had counted the orcs and uruk-hai that had been felled by their weaponry. The humor of the act in attempting to better himself over the dwarf had amusingly provoked his friend, lightening their mood.

He continued on his journey, fingering his bow. While fighting had left him little time to think, his decision from earlier was unchanged. He wanted Rem: it was as simple as that. Seeing Aragorn, his beloved friend and alley, return as if from the grave, had been immense. The young woman's steadfast truth in the matter, of her upholding her word to Mithrandir even at the pain of disappointing others, made him yearn for her all the more.

He could scarce remember when he had begun to feel such things for her. Only recall how much those feelings and sensations she ignited within him had grown. As much as she might fear his crediting her with having to do with Aragorn's life being spared, aware that she might harbor that worry, it was nothing of the sort. She was simply something else.

A mercurial woman that never ceased to come to his attention, and had first perturbed and frustrated him. Although, the latter he continued to experience in a more…physical reaction…to her close proximity. With Lady Eressë he had felt far more in control. She had been an elf of Rivendell, and had been met in seasons past when both had been young. Their attraction had been instantaneous, though prolonged in courtship as society ordained. Upon traveling there recently after this past year in October, he had admittedly been apprehensive of making her acquaintance once more. The first few weeks of his visit, when he wasn't avoiding the then suspicious Rem (or watching her every move in a spare moment of her being un-conscientious of the fact), he had sought Eressë out.

While their courtship had been broken mutually some decades past, that did not mean he did not wish to know of her well-being. He had found that she was doing well, and was at present being wooed by another. Legolas had been happy for her: she was a beautiful and soft-spoken creature, even for their race, and he could not have wished better. Yes…beauty indeed…but content to remain where she was, rather than wander free in the moonlight in strange places as he preferred to do on his travels. He had no regrets in ending things with her…of that he was certain.

Then there had been the Lady Larien. She had been his first love: a fiery and mischievous sprite of an elf who lived among his people in Mirkwood. It had been thought by some that they were well-suited, and would wed in time. Yet that had not come to pass, and as decades coiled away she yearned to return to the Undying Lands beyond the Gray Harbor. She had left, leaving him saddened but not mournful of her crossing. She had been…more of a friend and a confident, than anything else.

But Rem…she was what the two should have meant to him united in one woman. While it pained him she was mortal, and he would likely see her end, he couldn't stop himself. Even if her passing would mean his end, he couldn't draw himself away or bear to be parted from her. He only needed…to be sure of her sentiments. To find whatever it was that kept her from admitting aloud why it was she held her attraction for him at bay.

And he meant to persuade her to that end as of now.

He drew deeper into the cave, pausing only to notice how utterly deserted the area was. There was an immense lake at its center, and at the water's edge sat a vision: an apparition of loveliness who was meticulously washing herself and combing her fingers through cinnamon-tinted hair…His mouth ran dry as his eyes hungrily feasted upon the sight of bared flesh before him. Acting quietly and quickly, using the skill of his race, he descended the rocky outcropping; a hunter eying his prey.

Rem, meanwhile, was oblivious to the ambitions of the stalking elf. Once it had been realized that the battle had been won, she was loathe to return to the sunlight. She was tired, filthy, and wanted to steal a few moments for herself. It felt like eons since she had really bathed properly.

In the confusion that followed with the admission of some of Rohan's soldiers, Rem had snuck a grimy bar of soap from the piles of supplies stacked around. And, just as she had hoped, nearly everyone fled outside. Some lingered, hesitating in their worry and concern for what sight would greet their eyes (as many no doubt had died) as well as the eyes of their children, but they too had taken leave. Rem then began the pleasurable distraction of bathing rather than being reunited with odd elves and pushy dwarves or obnoxious relations.

_If I ever see my sister-in-law again, it'll be too soon_, she grumped_, hell will freeze over before I borrow any of HER things again…funeral or no… _

Positive that she would be uninterrupted, at least until some returned for the food supplies, she had stripped and began washing. Rem even used the dagger for an unconventional purpose—at least for what its original use intended. _I'm getting pretty good as shaving without a razor…who'd a thought?_ It wasn't until she was tackling her hair, and had felt safe enough to sight along the bank of the underground lake, that she made an unfortunate discovery.

"You look well, Lady Rem."

She let out a shriek: losing her balance and toppling into the water as she choked out a shocked breath. Unsure of which way was up, she nonetheless paddled like hell until her feet had trouble reaching the submerged ground.

"What are you DOING here?!" She was beyond mortified, even if it wasn't the first time he'd ever seen her naked. But this was different; she wasn't fatally injured here!

"I missed you." He said simply, casually leaning against a rock as he set down his bow and quiver of remaining arrows. She sputtered intelligibly, trying to come up with fitting comeback. Finding none, she allowed herself to sink lower in the water, her cheeks suffusing with color. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"I…I'm glad you're well," Rem paused, steeling herself as she pressed on, "so…what's with the 'lady' title? You and Aragorn on some kick or other…?" She bravely glanced upward, only to regret it immediately. He was fixing her with an unfathomable look. And even more disturbing, he was beginning to disrobe; first the fastenings at his color, then stripping out from his outer shirt…

"It is only meant…as a gesture of respect." She looked away, feeling hot and chagrined, despite the lake's frigid temperature.

"…still weirds me out," she mumbled self-consciously. _Since when has he been intent on showing 'respect' with titles?_ The splashing sound of water being parted was the only warning as she had, and she immediately looked up. Which was a mistake. She got more than an eyeful. Letting out a slightly strangled sound, she stumbled backwards, alarmed. _Oh god…he's…I mean…shit…_

Lean, rippling flesh—pale in an ethereal light amidst the darkness, flowing, silvery blonde hair…inviting lips…and those gorgeous, damned blue eyes… Panicking, feeling her resolve in staying at a safe distance weaken, she sputtered out further conversation, hoping to distract him…as well as herself.

"What are you doing?!"

"I intend to bathe…is that a problem?" he was bating her. She knew it.

"Yes, it's a problem," she hissed, congratulating herself for not letting her voice crack, "you're naked and coming closer!" _Crap…_she hadn't meant for that last part to leave the recesses of her mind. The water hardly lapped at his hips, making her traitorous mind wander in naughty places. Her mind was working furiously, fighting to come up with more conversation if only to staunch the painful knots that twisted in her stomach.

"You…why can't you wait your turn?" he paused then, something for which Rem was infinitely grateful. But then he opened his mouth.

"I tire of waiting…" she fought for resolve, even though her subconscious seemed determined to lose it.

"Bu—we…we hardly know each other…" His eyes softened then; within them blue darkening into darker shades.

"What more is there to know? Rem..." the shadows of blue deepened, "if you would be mine…I would be yours."

Rem swallowed, a tremble shivering through her limbs. Goosebumps were blossoming across her skin, and deep down she knew it had little to do with the chilly water. His eyes were an azure, turbulent storm. Thrashing deep within his gaze there lingered a conviction that both thrilled and frightened her.

"To have and to hold…" he murmured huskily.

She hugged herself close, her arms crossed over her chest, attempting to shield herself from his burning stare. He moved leisurely toward her, and despite his lack of attire, descended into the lake from the rocky outcropping that stretched out alongside her. His silvery, golden hair slipped over his shoulders at the movement.

Rem felt her eyes widen considerably, and stumbled back, further from the shallows. Yet the elf surged forward, capturing her easily in his arms, grasping her against him and halting her ungraceful descent.

"To cherish…" he murmured thickly against her neck.

And despite her better judgment, she felt her traitorous body begin to melt into him. A heat was beginning to curl deliciously inside of her, and those eyes…God, those beautiful stormy eyes….

How could it all have come to this?

Those knots within her insides were beginning to unravel, even as her heart threatened to leap through her throat. Hot, wet kisses trailed from her neck, across her jaw. He nibbled her skin graciously, sampling the salt-sweet flavor as she hiccupped a small gasp.

Rem bit her lip weakly in agonized pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She felt his hardened flesh against her thigh, straining against her sensitized skin.

His tongue was demanding against her lips, and—overwhelmed—she parted them obediently. And shuddered when he coaxed her tongue to return his affections, inviting her into his warm mouth where he playfully bit her tongue. When she gasped at the small flicker of pain, swallowed between the passion of their mouths, he pulled back. Before she was coherently aware of it, a sound of disappointment erupted from her lips. But it didn't last; he leant his forehead against her own, taking all of her in as he savored the feeling of her wet, voluptuous curves against the harder planes of his body, before taking her mouth once more in a deepening his kiss. Legolas' calloused hands sensually massaged her hips, fingers roving.

Somehow, he had backed her against the immense, stone outcropping without either of them realizing it at first. The pain in her shoulder had long since grown numb, and hardly bothered to remind her of its presence. With as must care as he could muster, he pressed her against the cold-slicked stone, grinding himself against her in a desperate attempt to ease some of the aching pressure in his crotch. All the while, he never stopped the ravishing of her mouth, her neck…

Her breasts were next to come to his attention. Hungrily, he followed the beading droplets of water than dripped down her chest. A nipple, pebbled tight in cold and desire, vanished into his mouth. The shock of change from cold to hot forced Rem to cry out, but she muffled the sound.

"Don't," he whispered soothing, his silken lips brushing heatedly against the rigid bud, "I want to hear you." She wanted to say something…anything. But all she could manage was a broken version of his name.

He then lavished his attentions upon the other neglected breast. He moved his hand, fingers parting her moist center, before roughly setting a pace. Rem cried out at the friction, striving to draw in a proper breath. Helplessly, little more than a bundle of nerves that twitched in pleasurable waves, she moved against them.

The feel of her …of her flesh wrapped and sheathed over the fingers of his hand. Without warning, he snatched his hand away from her core, arranging his arousal only to thrust into her.

"I love you," the endearment was little more than a husky, whittled groan that slipped past his lips. But it was enough. He murmured something else; an oath. Maybe two. But the more he felt, the more he lapsed into Elvish.

The force of his intrusion made Rem lose her breath, though the pain wasn't as bad as she had been led to expect. It burnt itself out in the wake of something deeper…something raw and more immense as he set a rhythm. She was close…so unbearably close as she writhed against him, unable to focus on any given thing but the one person giving her this primal gratification.

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A/N: Not done!! Just want to spread this out a bit more (too much butter on a piece of toast ruins the whole endeavor…just a thought…)

Terribly sorry that I haven't answered any reviews (Thank you for them!!!! They're highly appreciated)!!!!…But I'll leave that for next time on account this is a long chapter, it's currently 3am, and I'm sure you all wouldn't mind my answering them in chapter 24…. Thanks again for reading!!!

Excuse For Long Absence: School is keeping me busy, and I've been frantically hunting for another job (Blockbuster is going DOWN…I give it five years…though my paycheck is suffering now). Hugs to all!!!!

Critiques, suggestions, and corrections (as always) are very welcome!!


	24. To Have

Disclaimer: I wish everything belonged to me…but that's a pretty big fat wish. And as the saying goes, 'if wishes were fishes then there'd be no room for water'….So please don't sue me over this nonprofit fic!!

A/N: Sorry for delay…school and work are kicking my butt. And I've had quite a bit of back luck lately. For example: my laptop contracted a few viruses. So I have once again resorted to typing chapters out in the library (lol hope no one reads over my shoulder as they pass)!

Also, my 10-page paper for my graphic design class, half-completed, was swallowed by an unruly USB 2 days before it was due. And I'm now in the midst of finals…

So yeah…retyping that paper, coupled with a crap computer, and a USB which I will stomp on to celebrate the end of another semester, has had me tied up.

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'Endlessly adorned

Knowing it will be cut off

Endlessly polished

Knowing they will be cut off

They are terrifying, terrifying

In their fall

The hair flutters to the ground

A lifeless husk'

~Tite Kubo

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The late afternoon sky blazed with a dull heat despite the chill air sweeping across the arid cracks of the mountain. Much of the mud left over from last night's storm had dried into puddles of earth and blood. Yet most of the later compromised of the blackened variety to be found in orc veins. A soldier wandered past, dragging away yet another corpse of an orc. Others sought to do the same; piling them in great heaps for burning further away from the save-haven of Helm's Deep.

Gimli watched them with a vague interest, having performed the same task hours earlier. He now sat smoking a pipe, for all the world looking quite natural at the undertaking, save for the fact that he was sitting upon one of his earlier victims. The orc in question still sported a good-sized axe in his crushed skull.

It was unusual for the dwarf to have left his weapon in such a state; it was rare that he did not immediately take care of his beloved axes. But this was an exception among those rare times. He had other things wandering across the forefront of his mind. And while orc blood and gore remained to be some of the more disgusting things one could attain on a blade, it would not quicken the creation of rust any sooner than another liquid. So it was of little consequence that he had neglected to retrieve and clean the weapon. Letting another plume of smoke puff from his lips, he pensively stroked his red, tangled beard.

As if sensing his thoughts, one of the two people he had been contemplating put in an appearance. The elf walked with a light step, almost blithe in his manner. The briefest whisper of a smile stole across his face as he caught site of Gimli, and he hastened his approach. As he drew nearer, it did not escape the dwarf's notice that another smile, likely from an immense satisfaction, was carved deep into Legolas' blue eyes.

He awaited the elf patiently, his dark brown meanwhile eyes seeking the other person for whom he had been concerned. Within half a moment, they found her, too. By all appearances, Rem had likely been walking by Legolas' side, but had stopped momentarily to engage in conversation with Lady Éowyn. As it was, she looked contented as well, but with perhaps more mirrored a bit more trepidation. Or maybe that was guilt?

He lost sight of her as Legolas struck a pose in his field of view, a smirk now playfully evident on his features. He carefully fingered his bow, which he had been carrying in his left hand.

"Final count…" He declared in what was meant to be a serious tone, "forty-two!" Gimli wasn't sure whether he was annoyed or amused. But seeing the infectious jubilance in the elf made him lead more toward the latter.

"Forty-two? Oh, that's not bad for a pointy-eared elvish princeling,"

Legolas' face darkened at that least favorite of nicknames. However, his reaction only served to further inspire Gimli as he continued in a volatile and cheerful voice , "I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three." He allowed another rich plume of smoke to be drawn from his pipe, smiling slowly as he gagged the elf's reaction.

Rather than answer, Legolas' moved quickly. In scarcely a breath he had notched an arrow and let it fly between Gimli's legs. A thick sound of steal-tipped wood embedding in rotting flesh could be heard, and the dwarf gave a start. Before he could counter an intelligible reply, Legolas let loose another smirk before speaking.

"Forty-three." Gimli gave him a sullen look, annoyed at having been shot at; even if it happened to be indirectly.

"He was already dead," he snapped. Legolas snorted delicately, sensing Rem approach as her shoes crunched on the earth behind him.

"He was twitching," he pouted in an obiviously fake manner. He just couldn't help himself. Legolas felt better than he had in ages; nearly giddy, in fact. Provoking Gimli seemed the most appropriate way to celebrate. Especially with that mulish expression the dwarf had been sporting earlier.

Gimli sputtered, well-aware of what the elf was doing. But he played along anyhow, privately noting how Rem easily slipped her hand into Legolas' right.

" He was twitching because he's got my ax embedded in his nervous system!" For reference, he grasped the handle of his axe roughly, causing the body to contort accordingly. Rem pulled wry face, murmuring as she did so, "Yeah…that would do it…" She cleared her throat, indicating that she meant to change the subject as she tugged on the elf's hand.

"You, uh…might want to remove that before it damages your axe, Gimli." The dwarf snorted uneasily, but made to do so any way. Concerned, Rem released the elf's hand and squatted down next to her friend, her brows worrying.

"Hey, are you okay? You're not injured or anything, are you? That must have been a tough battle…" He waved his hand sheepishly, dismissing her disquieted ramblings. He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable. It was obvious to him what had happened. Why Legolas had disappeared immediately after the battle. Why Rem had not departed from the caves where the other women and children had taken refuge. Still, he realized that maybe he ought to tread around the subject more carefully. The girl might not have any idea what it was she had gotten herself into.

"Nothing to worry about, lassie." She was quiet for a minute, watching as the dwarf set about wiping the axe clean with a large scrap of leather. He set both down for a moment, thinking to himself that he needed to find a wetting stone in order to properly finish the task. Without warning, Rem launched herself at him, ignoring the fact that she was clean, and that he still sported much of the carnage that lay desolately around them on his clothes and skin.

"I'm glad you're alright, Gimli. I mean it!" Taken aback, but not unhappy, he patted her awkwardly. From over her shoulder, beyond the thick locks of her brown hair, he observed Legolas. The elf, in turn, quietly and coolly returned the favor; that smile still present in his eyes.

"Me too lassie…" he muttered gruffly, "I'm glad yer alright…and yer elvish princeling, too." Though he couldn't see it, he realized that she had blushed at that last comment. Letting go, she stood up self-consciously, a nervous smile playing over her face.

"Yeah…uh, be seeing you, then!" _And for the love of God, don't tell Aragorn! Or Gandalf, don't tell Gandalf!_ She kept those last two thoughts to herself, even though she willed herself to hope that by repeating it inside her head, Gimli might somehow catch on. It wasn't that she was ashamed of what she—they did. And would do. Again. Probably numerous times. It was just in her line of reasoning that it's one thing for your friends to know that you and and another make a couple, but another thing entirely for them to be aware of your a sex life. She'd put off others learning about that second detail for as long as possible.

Legolas warmly grasped her hand once more, brushing carefully at her face with a gentle, callused hand at some of the dirt acquired there. Rem smiled at the gesture, but dropped her eyes as she blushed once again. _I think I'm going through the first stages of turning into a beetroot._ Still, she couldn't bring herself to care that much. Not while Legolas was smiling at her like that; it made something soft and secret inside of her melt. _Oh, God…I've fallen. Hard._ Her mind immediately rushed back to their earlier engagement of this morning.

7 7 7 7 7 ((Flashback)) 7 7 7 7 7

It was incredible, this heat sheathed inside of her. The chill of the water was hardly acknowledged as it burst in small waves over her skin at the movement of their hips. She wanted to laugh. Or cry. She wasn't sure which: she felt like she was on a platform and dashing toward a leaving train and she…oh god it felt like… she was so unbearable close. The bright, neon lights from that same train were blinding her, and a rushing heat was building up, coming closer and closer, instead of further away...

Legolas fared no better as passion blinded him. The burning, sweet agony of his release drew near. The grip she had on him was something he had no hope of fighting against. He writhed against her, pounding into her wet softness. He meant to say something. Anything. To relate to her this deeper meaning…this connection that he felt. But he could no longer coherently tell what language it was he was trying to speak. It would be many nights later before he could recall all of the words that were now on the tip of his tongue, lingering like a sweet nectar.

He slammed into her one last time, and as soon as he felt his release he lost all control of his body, his knees giving out, his neck too weak to hold his head up. He was still holding her, caging her against the rough stone, their heavy breathing the only sound echoing in the silence. He could scarcely stand as he strove to move them both further to shore. But no matter his strength of will, weariness overtook him, and he collapsed on his knees in the shallows; Rem nestled in his arms.

He did not recall closing his eyes, but when he found the strength to reopen them, she was in his lap, his head resting on the crook of her uninjured shoulder. For a long minute afterwards, they remained unmoving, as they fought to regain their breath and calm their racing hearts.

The soft sound of dripping stalactites from the ceiling, which yawned like a cathedral overhead, interrupted the silence. Rem shifted, nervously. _I…I'm no longer a virgin…_Weird first thought to have. Not that she regretted it. Well, not yet anyway. How she felt about the experience would play out between her and Legolas in the next few minutes.

Tenatively, she raised a shaking hand, brushing her numb fingers through the elf's golden, wet locks plastered across her neck and chest.

"L-Legolas?" Damn. Her voice had shook. Still, she could probably blame that one on the temperature of the water. He stilled, indicating that she had his attention. His hands gingerly smoothed across her flesh, soothing her, as well as assuring himself that this was real. That she was real. It had really happened.

"I…Was it supposed to…I mean, what do we…" He murmured something softly, relinquishing the comfort of his head buried against her delicious neck. As if afraid of startling her, he gently smoothed a finger across her trembling lips, then followed the gesture with a kiss. His stormy eyes locked on to her own, and she found that she could not look away.

"What troubles you?" The depth found in that whisper gave Rem the encouragement to start again, albeit hesitantly.

"We…this isn't exactly traditional…I mean…aren't your people against extra-marital…uh, sex…?" That last part came out a bit more like a squeak than she would like to admit. _Crap…you're an adult, aren't you? Act like it._ She sat up a bit straighter, but went sock-still as she realized that any movement on her part caused Legolas to let out a soft groan.

A small smile, warm as it reached his eyes, was at first her only answer. He gathered his thoughts, choosing the words carefully as he spoke. A part of him, however small, felt exposed and vulnerable as he spoke. But things needed to be said; to be understood. If things were not said now, then they never would.

"Nothing about this is traditional," his hand found itself woven about a lock of chocolate hair, darkened by water. He smoothed his fingers over it intimately, his eyes thoughtfully never straying from her own as he spoke.

"The only words exchanged, deemed necessary by decorum and ceremony, are those which hold significance between the bride and groom. Followed by the name of Eru Ilúvatar."

"Eru Ilúvatar?" She parroted, confused. _Huh…I thought there would be more to it than that…wait a minute...R_em caught sight of the heated look that had spread across Legolas' face, as he kissed the lock of hair before letting it slip from his grasp. He took instead her hand, bringing her fingers to his mouth in order to wetly kiss each one.

She uttered a squeak at the contact, the small, burning knot in her stomach reawakening at the yearning touch. She recalled, despite the current fixation of her distraction, one of the things had had said to her. In lapsing between the Common Tongue and Elvish, he had most definitely spoken the name Eru Ilúvatar. Without meaning to, she started laughing.

"Oh, God, you mean I got married naked, in lake, inside a cave?" His eyes alighted on her curiously, but they didn't absolve from that look of hunger…of contentment. He finished with the pad of her thumb before moving onto her palm, a mischievous smile growing along his silken lips.

7 7 7 7 7 ((End Flashback)) 7 7 7 7 7

"That was pretty sneaky, you know," she continued walking, knowing full well that her new husband could hear her. _Huh…husband…have to get used to that one._

"I disagree. You were under no obligation to repeat what I had said." She snorted, feeling odd, but good-humored. _He probably counted on my stupidity or something._ She didn't know Legolas…Not really. At least if she were completely honest with herself. They had a lot to learn about one another. But somehow…she couldn't bring herself to be all that upset about this whole thing.

Maybe it was because, back when they had first met, they'd both made a mistake; one which heavily involved mistaking loathing for attraction; curiosity for mistrust. There was something there. Rem couldn't deny it, even if Legolas had been more aware—and open—about that fact. It spoke to his character, too…that he would embrace such feelings even if she were just a mortal. She shook her head from that last thought; there was enough on her mind without worrying over that detail. _That's something to bring up later…like when I'm drunk…And won't remember._

But, unlike the elf, she was used to hiding her emotions, especially from herself. He strove to control while she strove to ignore. Probably a little too well, since it had taken the strangest of wedding ceremonies in order for her to really take stock of her whole situation.

Here she was: Rem Jane Eltrin, residing in a fictional world, which apparently was a part of her ancestry (and had great optic treatment). She had fallen asleep on a desk, summoned by Saruman, and found herself an unwilling member of the Fellowship. While it had been bad enough to find that she had no influence on anything around her whatsoever, for good or ill, she had felt a strong pull toward an elf she hardly knew. An elf whom she once thought had hated her.

While things were no less complicated now, given that she still sucked at fighting, and that she had a half brother with a wife and child who disliked her; not to mention the illusive plans of Fate Lórien, Vairë, and all the rest of the Valar seemed to jerk her around through nauseatingly similar dreams... Maybe things were beginning to look up. And maybe…just maybe, she could stay here. In this place. It was a part of her, right? So what if she could never become a Speech Therapist, like she had planned? In time, perhaps she could help people…right here.

Without really thinking, she slowed her pace, walking alongside Legolas. She twined her hand in his, and had she looked at his face, she would have seen his stormy blue eyes smile. Even if it didn't quite reach his beautiful mouth.

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A/N: Next chapter: more lemons!! And a drunk Rem!! (I apologize in advance, but really, I can't resist). Also, apologies for the extremely short chapter. But more is on the way!!

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THANK YOU'S!!!!!

HeartyJessica: Yea!! Thank you very much!! I hope you continue to read and enjoy (reviews wouldn't hurt, either)! I'm glad you're liking this!!

ScreamReality: Lol I'm really sorry…excuses for my really, really long absence located in the author's note at the beginning of the chapter. But I'm on the precipice of winter break!! Know what that means? More updates!! Please keep reading and reviewing, and I'll stray away from taking so long to update (as much as I am able…I'm likely to stomp on my laptop as much as my USB) Thanks for the review!! Glad you like my story!!

Rin Tashioto: Why thank you very much!! Lol Yeah…Admittedly, I shouldn't swear either (I've taken to saying 'son of a monkey' instead of another popular phrase …most of the time). Eh, but I guess Rem is a bit less inhibited than us lol Glad you like it!! Please keep reading and reviewing!! Oh, and I like your name!! My friend's (and coworkers) call me Rin, too…small world!!

Silverfur: Lol sorry…honestly didn't mean for it to take me this long! Holidays, coupled with school and work—along with an evil USB (see author note at the beginning of chapter)—have made updating difficult. Thank you very much for the sweet review!! (love you, too hehehe) Please write more reviews as I continue writing!! Hope I don't disappoint!!

Raxsah003: Thank you very much!! I'm very flattered (and thrilled) that you don't find this story mary-sue-ish….But, if I ever do happen to stear toward a cliché, please let me know!! (I take pride in avoiding 'em) Please keep reading and reviewing!!!

AmberLovesLOST: Thank you very much!! I'm glad you couldn't wait to review—it's really flattering!! I hope you continue to find it amusing (CPR scene was fun to write ^_^) Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Aranel Saerwen: Yea!! Thank you! Gotta love friend favorite lists ^_^ I like to peruse through my pals too…Recently got hooked on a brilliant Harry Potter fic thanks to one of mine (darn her -_-Now I have to constantly check for updates!!). I'm thrilled you like Rem's character; It's tough writing up an OC who's not too terribly Mary-Sue (I'll confess that I may come close at times…but I try!) Thank you so much for the lovely compliments on my writing style, too…(I've got a goofy smile on my face because of them ^_^) I hope you continue to enjoy, and please don't hesitate to review once again!!

Another reader: I want to give you a hug!! Thank you very much for you kind words (even though I have been distracted—and downright flaky—on the frequency of the updates)!!! I hope you continue to enjoy, and thanks again, wonderful reader ^_^

reader: Umm 0_o…..oopsie? Hope you continue to read nonetheless!!

Lunafilia: WOW!! You wrote a whole bunch of reviews!!! Thank you so very much!!! ::gives hug:: Glad you like the humor I incorporated in the story, and that Rem reminds you of yourself (Yea!! That means I've succeeded in not making her a complete Mary-Sue!!) Hope you keep reading (reviewing!!) and enjoying this fic!!

MesshaBlack: Thank you very much!! Please keep reading!!

parseltonge girl: No, Thank YOU!! Glad this was little fic was able to make you feel better ^_^ Happy you like it, and hope it continues to make your day!! Please keep reading and reviewing at your leisure ^_~

Punk Rocker Fairy: Well, let me put it this way: She's sees Rem (a bit odd for Rohan-standards) as being the closest person to be like herself. She's obviously seen battle, which would merit the assumption that she's a strong person. Just like herself. So yeah…I thought maybe she would assume Rem would be as….forward thinking…

Cherrypumkin: Right away!! Please keep enjoying ^_^

Maladicta: hehehe….Sorry….but hope this makes up for it!! Also, I solemnly swear there will be more lemons later on. Uninterrupted. Please keep reading!!

'lef-Marcela': lol Thank you very much!! Glad you thought so (too)!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Lov3good: Thank you!! Please keep enjoying!!

Emily: lol If that's the case, you can pay for your own therapy ^_^ I will try to abstain from waiting too long for now own….winter break is around the corner, after all…Maybe my New Year's Resolution should be to finish this story…^_~ Please keep reading!!

quivering quill: Glad you did!! Nope, she took Galadriel's gift, if you recall. Won't have to worry about that for the next 6 months or so ~_^ Please keep reading and revewing!!

Bigglesworth: Lol Never heard it put that way before! Hope you had sweet dreams, then ^_^ Glad you liked, and please continue to read and review!!

Slywolf9: Thank you very much!! I appreciate the compliments!! No worries, Rem will be okay (I sure as hell would be 0_o)…Hope you enjoyed the continuation of the water scene ^_^ Please keep reading and reviewing!!

VeronicaD13: lol ah, those poor people…Glad you liked chapter 23's ending!! Nope, I don't plan for much awkwardness (well, between them at least. Can't promise if she'll ever look the rest of the Fellowship in the eye for a while lol) And I promise that there will be a few more delicious details regarding what he said later!! Please keeping reading and reviewing!!

Melibells: Lol Okay, I'll admit it. You're my favorite reviewer!! You always leave the longest and most descriptive responses—thanks a bunch!! And don't worry, I indeed intend to butter the $%^& out of that toast for now on!! ^_^ On a side note, your reaction to Legolas' use of slang makes me wanna have him borrow a few more choice words…Stay tuned for that!! Yup…he knows what he wants…and pretty soon, once Rem stops swimming in the river Denial, she'll takes what she wants too (thereby kicking it up a notch)! Oh, thanks for catching the clothes error…I appreciate the reminders since I can be pretty flighty in my writing (I think I'll re-edit the whole shebang this December…I loathe rereading stuff only to cringe in finding syntax and spelling mistakes). Yes, I swear that everything will be made clear about what the Valar wants from Rem…hopefully, it won't be corny as hell. Don't worry about the artwork—school definitely comes first!! But please let me know if and when you post any more!! I do really love them!!! Please keep reading and reviewing (and drawing, when you find the elusive time)!!! More elf-lovin' on the way!!! Hugs ^_^ And thanks again!!

027: Thank you very much!! Lol if you do somehow manage to fall into Middle Earth Rem-style, give Legolas a big kiss for me, all right? I've fallen on my desk before…and all I got was a sore neck 0_o Thanks again for your compliments—I hope you continue to enjoy (and review)!! I'll try not to split off between lemons for now on…but rest assured: more are on the way!! Big hug to you, my dear!! ^_^

Avatarone3: Wow, thank you very much!! Think you made me blush! No shame about the elf—I like to think it's healthier to like someone fictional because (unlike celebrities) they are exactly as they seem. Besides, no one else knows whatever the heck goes on inside your own head. That's my excuse at any rate….Please keep reading and reviewing—hope you continue loving this!! Also, on a completely unrelated note, I just got some jasmine tea!! Now I feel just like Uncle Iroh ^_^ (he's not kidding by the way—smells and tastes great….especially with a bit of sugar)!

BakaProductions: lol sorry, please keep reading and reviewing!!

ren-hatake: Thank you so much for your understanding (and the compliment)!! Hn, wish I had magical powers…then maybe I could wish away my homework….Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Pyra Sanada: Apologies for the evil-ness!! I'll make it up to you!! Thanks for reading and please keep reviewing!!

CalmingWater1098: Sorry!! Another chapter with an uninterrupted lemon coming soon!! Please keep enjoying!!

kbird213: Thank you very much!! ::takes a bow:: Glad it helped you recover from the math!! And there will be another lemon coming up!! Please keep reviewing!!

kuro-30fyre: lol you're welcome!! And thank you very much for the review!! Hope you continue to like (and that you found that fan….) ^_~

Song in the woods: Ah, you're so nice ^_^ Thank you very much for the review and the understanding!! Next chapter won't take so long; I promise!! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

Black-Sun-567: Hurray!! Thank you very much!! You've really made my day saying all that ^_^ Please keep reading and reviewing!! And I will try to be more prompt on the updates….pinky swear!!

BErinHaribo: lol Thanks…and yes, I admit their interaction was rather short…but more on the way!! Maybe I can edit more into that chapter later…please keep reading and reviewing!!

Msmarvelfreak: lol A good prediction, but I'm going to try and make her change her ways…she's got to face the music some time…^_^ Thanks and please keep reading!!

ivegotproblams: Thanks!! I like that reaction!! Lol Please keep reading and reviewing!!


	25. Circumstances As They Lay

Disclaimer: The contents herein pertaining to Lord of the Rings don't belong to me…so no profit is or ever will be made ::cries in a corner::

A/N: Sorry for the long delay, but happy late holidays!! I meant to post this yesterday, but a good friend (whom I haven't seen in a while) distracted me, since I was in need of a good talk and a few hugs in light of a few things. Thank you all for your patience!!!

Big hug for Melibells since she's made yet another beautiful fanart to accompany this story!!! THANKS AGAIN!!!!! Review responses located at the end of the chapter.

WARNING: Lemon in this chapter.

* * *

'There is no heart without you'

~Tite Kubo

* * *

The evening blossomed in burnished hues of both aged and fresh copper. In spite of the freezing wind, the diminishing rays of sun still bequeathed a little more warmth than usual. The stones of the fortress felt as though they were soaking in every last morsel of heat, and many people had begun to express the beginnings of good cheer.

Not that Rem could blame them. Despite all of the death and hardship faced in this battle, it was reasonable now for there to be somewhat of a collective sigh of relief. A smile here and there; a small chuckle to be heard. Although this contagious good humor pervaded everywhere, Rem nonetheless felt a bit of anxiety dancing along her nerves, unable to be squelched.

What was worse, Legolas did not seem to share her unease; isolation seemed her only companion in these feelings.

Every so often, soldiers and commoners would rush past. Many were packing their few possessions and provisions, others attending the wounded in preparation for departure to Edoras. Or wherever else it was they had come from.

The dead had been burned, their corpses set aflame hours ago. While the smell lingered, no one seemed terribly bothered—or at least kept up a brave face. Rem was reminded, in eavesdropping as she and the elf wandered past, that a proper state funeral would be held back in Edoras to commemorate their noble sacrifice.

The small leaden weight of worry was blossoming in the pit of her stomach, curling and twisting her insides. She would give anything to ride to Edoras along with Éowyn and the others. For her, as well as Théoden and the remainder of the Fellowship, Isengard loomed ahead. Saruman waiting within its confines. It didn't matter that he was powerless. What made her blood run cold was the prospect of his turning those burning eyes on her. His treacherously honey-coated tongue speaking of her father…Rem wasn't sure she had the strength to hear that. Still, she had to be there. She doubted Gandalf would let her out of his sight in regard to this final confrontation. It was likely they might learn something of the fallen wizard's original plan concerning.

They crested the last of the stairs, nearly colliding with another gaggle of soldiers. Hastily, with the grace of a cat, Legolas shepherded her aside so that the bustling people could pass. Secretly, Rem relished that last moment; the courtly grace of her husband as he sheltered her from the hastily moving crowds.

It felt nice…being protected. A small blush nipped at her face, as she remembered the feeling of that lean, graceful body pressed against her earlier that morning…unclothed, and uninhibited. Making her feel wanted. She bit her lip, trailing her traitorous eyes elsewhere in order to get a better hold of herself. Still, all good things must come to an end. She felt the grip of her calloused hand as he gingerly led her on, toward the suddenly threatening doors of the keep.

* * *

Gandalf looked up at the sound, smiling as he caught sight of the elf and the girl. He and Théoden had been expecting them. One of his soldiers, however, had not. At least judging by Ansel's startled reaction. He half rose from his chair, then, as if undecided, seated himself once more. Warily, he did not take his eyes from the couple as they approached the table. Across it were strewn several maps; a route to Isengard were in the process of being selected.

Legolas paused momentarily, saluting the king in the elvish fashion by bowing his head slightly and motioning his right arm across his chest. Rem gave an awkward curtsy, doing her best to ignore Ansel; an unwelcome presence bearing the uncanny visage of their father. The last person she really wanted to think about. _Just what I need…someone Upstairs really hates me…_ She cleared her throat, starting an exchange if only just to distract herself.

"So…finding the best road to what's left of Orthanc?" Much to her relief, none went silent at her query, even though many gave her questioning and even surprised looks. Gandalf alone was unaffected, smiling as he arose from his chair belatedly as if to greet them both properly.

"The trees of Fangorn have made many nervous. And even a touch disoriented," He stroked his staff thoughtfully, not quite meeting their eyes as he continued, "in the circumstances of being without familiar landmarks, maps are not unwelcome." Legolas smiled as they locked eyes, the elf's inexplicably sly as he murmured.

"At least for some," Mithrandir smiled, acknowledging that he could indeed find his way to the very steps of Orthanc within his sleep. His gray eyes then met those of Rem, and his smile widened before he turned to reclaim his seat.

She couldn't explain it, not rationally at least. But there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that related to her the suspicion of Gandalf knowing what had come to pass. Still, maybe she was just imagining things. She could never really tell when it came to the wizard. The conversation was abruptly dropped for another topic, keeping Rem from contemplating further.

"Ansel, among a few others of the guard, will accompany us to Isengard." Rem's eyes widened at Théoden's declaration, a stone lodging itself in her throat. _Crap…_ Without meaning to, her searching brown eyes found those of her brother, who wore an expression of discontent. She had to swallow before she could find her voice.

"So…when do we leave?" Silence met her query, making her uneasy. Théoden carefully avoided her gaze as Gandalf ventured to answer.

"Perhaps it is best that you remain here, in the care of the lady Éowyn and your people…" She gave him a dirty look, but before she had a chance to bite out a half-formed retort, Legolas spoke.

"I would prefer that my wife would accompany us—" he got no further, the clatter of a chair interrupting whatever more words he might have said.

"Your wife?!" The elf fixed Ansel with a cool expression. _Well, here it goes…And so the shit hits the fan…_It didn't escape Rem's notice that Gandalf appeared to be tending to his pipe, outwardly very little concerned with the situation.

"Ah, as I suspected. Then congratulations are in order." _So you're lighting up in celebration? Is that it?_

Théoden looked bemused, as he looked searchingly from the unorthodox couple toward his guard, "How is such a thing possible…?"

"The customs of elves…are different from those of men…" Rem tried. But gave up as she was given several uncomprehending looks, "it's a culture thing…look, the point is," she fixated Ansel with what she hoped was a penetrating look, "we're married." She executed a swift curtsey in Gandalf's direction, "And thank-you for the congratulations." Legolas bowed gallantly as well, a small bit of pride managing to break past the surface, despite his best efforts. Rem was his; nothing could change that. His heart swelled at the proclamation of that truth.

Ansel looked positively livid.

"Sister, might I speak with you for a moment…" She raised an eyebrow haughtily, challenging him to finish that sentence, "…Privately?!" There lingered a hard edge to his words. She nodded sharply, detangling her hand from that of Legolas. Yet before he relinquished his grasp entirely, he raised the appendage delicately to his lips, kissing it gently. She flushed at the gesture, then conceded to follow after a glowering Ansel, who had watched the exchange with an expression of distaste.

No one dared to speak for a moment, at least until the siblings had ventured further from the table. Many looked to Théoden, who shook his head with authority, as if the mounting situation were beyond him.

"We leave first thing in the morning," he said at last, answering Rem's earlier question, "Master elf, should your…" he searched his lexicon briefly for the appropriate word, "spouse… deign to accompany you, she remains your responsibility." Legolas nodded, his clear eyes never leaving Rem and Ansel, as they halted at the end of the wall, past the door.

"You cannot be with him!" Rem sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah…you see, it's a bit late for that…" He took an aggressive step toward her, alerting her of his flaring temper. Hers, on the other hand, was already beginning to wane. She was angry, sure, but that didn't make her completely unreasonable.

"Have you noticed lately that all we ever do is fight?" She offered.

"Don't change the subject!" She resisted sighing once more, but he continued, unrelenting. Almost as though he perceived her as some ignorant child. "Surely this can be re-arranged. This union could not yet have been consummated…!" His voice trailed off as he saw the guilty curve of her lips,

"By the fates…you must be joking! Are they that barbaric that such 'ceremony' would entail nothing more than physical…" he reached out, as if to grasp her shoulders and shake some sense into her, "this can be fixed…you cannot be with that—" he didn't manage to get the unflattering remark out. Rem side-stepped him neatly, out of his reach.

"You have no say in what I do…or WHO I do," he winced at the blunt expression, striving to disrupt her without success, "and why would you assume that I would even want to be separated from him? I love him and he loves me—"her ire was rising once again. Ansel seemed to have that effect on her.

"He will outlive you!" the words stung, penetrating deep. He carried on, "you belong with one of our own—with one of our people! He cares nothing for you beyond the carnality of flesh; I can see it in his eyes! He would prowl behind the backs of all to have you in secret while a battle rages on…!" The seeds of doubt were planted.

"OUR people?!" She could feel her temper flaring again, "I'm not a woman of Rohan, you moron! And how dare you—we became one AFTER the battle! You know nothing of elves; nothing of ME," His expression darkened, nearly lethal.

"You are a daughter of Eorl, and as your older sibling am entitled to your respect, my advice—"

"Stuff your advice! I'm Eorl's bastard! He never married my mother; which dictates that I am not of your house…So I will behave toward you in reflection of how you conduct yourself toward me and nothing more!" Shit, there were tears rising in her voice. Damn it, but Ansel made her see red! He was such a jerk!

"Whatever the hell you think, you're wrong!" She growled, "I'm not your little sister, and as such am not compelled to do anything you say! I'm staying with Legolas. So fuck off!" With that, she turned on her heel, making her way toward the one person that made sense to her anymore.

* * *

Hours later, Rem was still simmering as she lay on her and Legolas' pallet. Words were turning themselves inside her head. Everything that had been suppressed all the way through dinner and until now was crashing its way to the surface. Creating a nauseating whirlwind of regret and anger, worry and anxiety. Why?! Why did she and Ansel always have to fight? It seemed inevitable whenever they were within the same room? And why did he have to say those hurtful things…things that she feared…might be true? _God…where is he?_ Probably still with Aragorn; he and the ranger had much to discuss, apparently. _I need him here…_

A childish, stupid thought. A yearning that burned deep inside her breast at the desire to be comforted; saved from the treacherous, tumultuous thoughts her stupid half-brother had implanted within her mind. She was giving the jerk full credit in this regard. This thought was followed by others.

What if this…marriage with Legolas…was nothing more than a passing fancy? Some fornication to pass the time? No…she didn't think he would do that. But…What Ansel had pointed out made sense: she would die before him. Worse: he might die of grief and follow her passage into death. _All mortals die…is that reason enough to deny life while it's being lived, though? Am I regretting this? Regretting him? I love him…I mean, I think I do…is that enough? Even though we hardly know each other?_

Her mind couldn't come up fast enough with satisfactory answers. Other questions continued to churn their way through her subconscious, and it wasn't long before she fell into a restless sleep. _Would it have been better that I'd never come here at all…?_

* * *

The slamming of a door roused her from sleep, and she straightened a little too fast. She groaned at the pain of having slept in chair, of all places. A pencil was stuck to her cheek, but it fell easily as she sat up. There was a little bit of drool on her desk, and she felt disoriented as she took in her surroundings. Something seemed…a little off.

"I know! I, like, can't believe him! He's such an asshole! I dunno what I'm gonna do!" Rem winced at the high-pitched, familiar voice. It occurred to her, dimly, that the other girl was on her cell phone. Blearily, she eyed her roommate. Something was wrong. This wasn't right…but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Caitlin…?" Her voice sounded raw, even to her own ears. Like she'd been crying or had been without water for a few days. The other girl gave her a dirty look, gesturing at her sharply to keep quiet.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. I know…he's such a jerk-off. Like, does he have any idea how good he has it…? Totally. Yeah, call ya later, girl!" She closed her phone with a decisive snap, before turning patronizingly to regard Rem.

"I was like, on the phone, you know." Rem wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"And I was like….sleeping," she muttered sarcastically. Caitlin shrugged, uncaring.

"What, were you like up all night studying or something? You look like hell." She was about to argue with the obnoxious blonde, but something stopped her. Almost as if she were still dreaming, she took into consideration the state of her desk. The lamp was humming, still on. Her books were everywhere; notes from class scattered across the table-top's surface. _Why does this feel wrong? Like I'm late for something…or there's somewhere else I need to be…do I have work today? Class…? Is Legolas—_

Her thoughts cut immediately from there; memories flooding in at a rush, panic thrusting her from the chair as she grabbed at the other girl.

"What day is it? What's going on?! I was—"

"What the hell!" Caitlin shrieked, trying unsuccessfully to twist out of Rem's hard grip. "Get a hold of yourself!" Rem let go, stumbling back, her eyes stinging.

"No…oh God, no…why am I here? Where…why…? I'm not supposed to be…"

"Jesus, Rem!" Caitlin shrieked, "Have you lost it? What's with you?" Thoroughly peeved, the other girl tried to smooth out her cute shirt. Annoyed that the delicate beading had come dangerously close to being torn loose.

"Great. So I like, have this argument with my boyfriend, and now my psycho roommate—"

"This isn't right!" Caitlin glared at Rem, upset about being interrupted; nonetheless, even she was beginning to look a bit shaken. Rem usually kept to her sarcastic self.

"I'm…I'm not supposed to be here!" Rem felt like she was going to throw up. _A dream?! The whole damn thing was just a dream?! But…it was so real…_She barely registered the feel of salt-warm tears as they bled from her eyes, sitting down at her desk chair harder than she intended at the shock. _So goddamn real. He was real…This…this can't be happening!!_

* * *

Rem sat bolt upright, gasping. She sat up so fast, in fact, that she slammed into Legolas head on. He groaned in pain, falling back as her thick skull collided with his own. In spite of the pain, she noted that he had been crouching over her, possibly inspecting her as she slept. With a small sob of relief, she reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair as she buried her face in his chest, the pain in her head adding a little to her tears.

_This is real…it's really real. This is actually happening. Oh thank the Valar…!! _She breathed in the scent of him: sandalwood and cinnamon, something fresh from the cool mountain air. Strong, gentle hands began to stroke at her back, giving comfort.

Legolas felt the stars in his eyes begin to recede, the only reminder of the incident dying in a dull throb at his temple. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. Although, if he reflected on a paste countenance they had shared in Lothlórien, a similar experience had occurred. Still, that hadn't quite prepared him for how hard-headed his wife really was…literally. She hadn't slammed into him this hard, either.

Rem had been whimpering just now; thrashing about in her sleep to indicate that she was in the midst of some nightmare. Before he could discern how it was best to wake her, she'd beaten him to it. Now she was clinging to him, in need of reassurance and obviously in distress. He hadn't seen her this vulnerable in a long time; especially without the charade of preceding anger that usually accompanied such outbursts.

"I—I was so afraid." Her voice was muffled against the cloth of his shirt.

"What did you dream?" he soothed, tenderly combing through her hair as she fought for the words to speak.

"…I went back." He stilled.

"Back?" he echoed, but resumed the stroking of her brown hair, holding her close.

"Back home…to my world. To my time." That last part just slipped out. She might have been suspecting it for months, never allowing it past the barriers of her subconscious. That this world was merely a part of her own, buried beyond the furthest reaches of history. The question of how in the world this story, conceived as fiction by a British author, fit into place remained elusive.

"…Were you happy? To be home?" he had to ask.

"God, no!" It came a bit more strongly than she would have liked, her voice raising another octave. Embarrassed flames alighted her cheeks, and she couldn't look him in the eye. She refused to. _You're not desperate at all, are ya? It was just a dream, Rem, just a dream…_

"It was just a dream, Rem." The similarity to her own thoughts gave her enough courage to look up into his beautiful face. Thoughtful blue met troubled brown. He felt warmed by her forceful declaration. She was confused and afraid…but that didn't combat the obvious feelings they shared for another. His heart was relieved. He kissed her softly, adjusting their embrace as he lay down on their pallet, cradling her in his arms.

However, uncomfortable with the new arrangement (in that she had never liked laying on her stomach nor her chest) she wriggled to the side. But she held onto him, indicating a compromise in being within the safe-haven of his arms. He complied, willingly. So that he was spooning her; her back to his powerful chest, arms wound about each others; his leg curled over her own. She let out a breath, the tension beginning to leave her as she cuddled into his embrace.

It had been a dream. Just a horrible, nasty dream. Although, many months ago she probably would not have seen it as such. Maybe just a tease of the life she no longer had. Not that she'd ever want to see Caitlin again. But it was now something she no longer wanted or craved. She belonged here…with Legolas. It was probably a goofy, corny thing to admit to herself but…in his arms, she felt as if she were home. Screw what Ansel said. Time, and death, would come for anyone. Nothing could last forever. The best they could do was hold on to this moment, and to each other.

In the background of her mind, a whisper of a thought pervaded. That this nightmare shrouded another truth: she feared the possibility of the day that she might have to return, unwilling, to her old life. Before sleep claimed her once again, she prayed to every deity she'd ever heard of, the Valar included, that Saruman remained powerless enough not to unleash such a horrible fate. He'd fucked up enough lives.

* * *

It was a quiet journey, hardly interrupted by the crush of hooves over earth let alone conversation. Not that Rem could bring herself to care. She was content to ride along in companionable silence. Graciously, Gimli had opted to ride with Ansel when they had set out on their journey, allowing Rem to ride with Legolas. She was now actively avoiding her half-brother, and her sister-in-law should she be unlucky enough to spot her. Years of pain and misunderstanding separated the siblings, and the only quick solution Rem could foresee without bringing up another argument between them was to stay out of the others' way for as long as possible. Maybe even the rest of their lives, or so she wishfully hoped at any rate.

Rem felt a bit uneasy, though, in how quickly the dwarf had insisted on riding with Ansel. She really hoped he wasn't planning anything; the latter and herself would see eye-to-eye in their own time, and not before. Let alone in some scheme set by the dwarf. Maybe she was just being paranoid about the whole thing…

A gentle squeeze at her ribcage reminded her of Legolas' presence behind her. Given that she had a bad habit of crushing the daylights of those who sat before her on a mount, he had opted to sit behind her. Rem had to admit that it felt nice, being cuddled against his chest, much as she had last night. Soft, familiar voices interrupted her ruminations, and a relieved smile of anticipation found its way to her face, shared by the rest of her companions.

Laughter first greeted them as they broke through to the clearing beyond the strange, ancient trees that hosted gnarled branches. A most welcome sight boasting of the hobbits Merry and Pippin were before them, and the former immediately hopped to his feet.

"Welcome, my lords...and lady… to Isengard!" he wobbled, almost imperceptivity. Amused, Rem noted that both hobbits were obviously in the midst of smoking vast quantities of pipe-weed. Gimli's brash voice found its way past his throat, offering further hilarity to the situation.

"You, young rascals! A merry hunt you've lead us on, and now we find you feasting and - and smoking!"

"We are sitting," Pippin quipped smugly, "on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts." Merry smirked, blowing out a cloud of smoke in agreement.

"The salted pork is particularly good," he added, almost as an afterthought. It did the trick. The dwarf's eyes lit up at the veiled offer.

"Salted pork?" Gandalf shook his head, muttering to himself, making Rem smother a giggle.

Merry continued, unabated, "We're under orders! From Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard," his curious, inebriated eyes then took in the appearance presented by Rem and Legolas.

"Oh, now what's this, now?" Pippin grinned impishly, coming to the same conclusion as his cousin.

"Somethin' happen while we were away?" Rem felt her cheeks darken.

"Think it's safe to say 'yes,' Pip."

"Aw, it was only a matter of time…" Behind her, Legolas shook his head, both inspired and annoyed by the antics of their long-lost companions; they gave him an idea. While Gandalf and the others surged ahead in search of Treebeard, he gently coaxed Rem's head to turn with nimble fingers so that she was facing him. He then kissesd her, hot and open-mouthed. She was shocked for just a split second, but wasn't about to complain. Only the hobbits were watching, and she couldn't resist bating them just a little. Her husband was already beginning to rub off on her. The sound of fumbling made it obvious that one of them had almost dropped a pipe, and both immediately launched into a series of cat-calls.

"Oh, now, that's the ticket!"

"That's right, give him CPR!" The couple broke apart, breathless, but laughing. She was about to yell up at them, remind them that CPR wasn't kissing…but the words died on her lips. For in a brief space of a second, she'd caught Ansel's stolen look before he'd face forward once again. He'd seen the whole exchange, and didn't look too happy.

_So, what else is new…?_ She settled for the moment for blaming the hobbits, who'd goaded the situation.

"…I think I'm going to shave the hobbits feet…" She muttered lamely, causing her husband to quirk an eyebrow.

"You're going to what now?!" Pippin shrieked in alarm.

Evidently, elves alone didn't have superior hearing.

* * *

"Young master Gandalf. I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a wizard to manage here; locked in his tower." Treebeard's mighty voice sounded like remnants of water grinding away earth. Legolas and Rem had hastened to be with their companions, Merry and Pippin trailing after them until Aragorn and another soldier had halted and assisted in helping them mount their steeds before reaching the deepening water.

"And there Saruman must remain," Gandalf returned, "Under your guard, Treebeard."

"Well, let's just have his head and be done with it!" Gimli snorted. Rem felt her insides twist at the prospect, hoping that the wizard wouldn't put in an appearance. She'd been dreading the prospect. He knew things…too many things. He was the one who had undoubtedly brought her to this world—this time and place. He just might still be able to send her out of it. And in knowing that he had commanded her father, Eorl, made her flesh crawl. She didn't want to hear it…especially with an audience present.

"No," she almost sagged in relief at Gandalf's answer, "he has no power anymore." _I hope to hell you're right…_A twinge of guilt, however small, reminded her of the wizard's future malicious intent in the shire. Still…there wasn't really anything they could to prevent it. That task still lay before the hobbits…and she knew that they could handle it. And aside from that knowledge, the coward inside of her dreaded the thought of insisting on Saruman's murder. Deserving of it or not, she wasn't a killer. She didn't think so, anyway.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away," Treebeard breathed hoarsely, "Trees will come back to live here…" A wet splashing interrupted the ent's rambling, and Rem's eyes locked onto the hobbit just as he reached the glowing Palantír. Like him, she couldn't tear her eyes away, though she desperately wanted to. Aragorn's hard voice hardly dissuaded her or Pippin from achieving that end.

The hobbit's hands and clothes were soaked, but the drenched orb contained a warm, almost breathing presence all could sense.

"Bless my bark!" Treebeard droned. It was then that Rem felt a reassuring pinch at her thigh through her dress, causing her to snap out of the distraction.

"Are you well?" Legolas' voice felt velvety and scorching in her ear, and she shivered on reflex. Who know arousal could serve as a helpful distraction? She brushed his hand away delicately as she nodded, grateful the pinch had been gentle enough merely to gain her attention, which he now entirely contained.

"Peregrin Took," Gandalf's voice sounded bruised and concerned; it did the trick, "I'll take that, my lad." Hesitantly, the youngest hobbit waded back toward Gandalf, "Quickly now!"Depositing the mysterious-looking ball with an air of slight regret in the wizards swift hands, the look of curiosity Pippin sported never waned.

Rem sighed, anxious about this latest of developments, and made the mistake of glancing toward the tower of Orthanc. Was it her imagination, or did the silhouette of a shrouded figure move from sight? The likely possibility of it being Saruman nearly made her blood freeze, or at the very least, make her feel as though she had swallowed a small and somehow poisonous rock.

* * *

The halls of,Medusel, Théoden's home, were raucous with good cheer. Everywhere there was jubilation, and as infectious as it was, Rem still felt ill-at-ease. Maybe it was a remnant of earlier that day, when she had spotted Saruman. She highly doubted that it had been Gríma; it was not his shadow that now dwelt heavily inside her mind. Thankfully, Legolas had sensed her unease while Gandalf and the others awaited the fallen wizard's appearance, and had guided their horse further away after exchanging a communicative glance with Aragorn.

He didn't ask questions, at least regarding anything to do with her obvious fear of Saruman. Secretly, he had been all-too eager himself to avoid the traitor's presence. He had brought Rem to this world, and it was likely that he would want to out of it again; he would want to speak to her, if nothing else. While Legolas believed in the astute judgment of Mithrandir that Saruman was indeed powerless, that wasn't reason enough for the elf to allow the coveted girl near him. Let alone to allow her to hear his sinister words.

Rem didn't know that last part, but she had appreciated the gesture all the same. The traitorous wizard made her nervous, and the thought of being forced 'home' terrified her. Nothing would be as it had been. She just wasn't completely the same person anymore. A cup of ale or some sort of beer sat before her, and—shrugging—she took a sip of the frothy liquid. She gagged, just in time for the husband to appear and witness her coughing up the sour taste.

"What are you doing?" She had to finish hacking before she could answer that.

"Recovering from some putrid tasting alcohol, what's it look like?" he smiled, but it somehow managed to make him look coy. _Or maybe that beer was really potent…?_ He handed her a different cup, this one a deep amber liquid. Or was it maroon? She couldn't quite tell since the utensil wasn't glass.

"Hey, thanks!" She tried a sip, and he did the same, a glint of humor in his eyes as he watched her. One thing about Rem he was beginning to cherish was that she would try just about anything once. She truly had a free heart. Her smile lit up her entire face as she downed the delicious liquid.

"Hey, that's pretty good!" It burned a bit going down, but that was probably because it too contained boos. She highly doubted that she would be able to find a beverage around here that was without it, so a root-beer soda was definitely out of the question. Still, at least this stuff tasted nice. Rem had never been much of a party person. At least not the college, binge-drinking, pot-smoking kind of flings most people around campus were prone to attending. She usually liked to keep a clear head. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel like keeping the latter…she wanted to forget everything stacked up against them. For just one night; even if that entailed a small hangover on the morrow.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Èowyn approaching Aragorn with a goblet. It made her heart sink, taking in the scene. Legolas followed the path of her gaze, and both watched the scene unfold.

"She'll find love some day," she said over the roar of conversations and laughter. Legolas gave her a penetrating look, which she did not at first return. When their eyes met, she extrapolated, "not with him, obviously…but…she will find happiness." The frown that marred her pretty face as she spoke that truth troubled him little. He had an inkling that she was speaking as a means to comfort herself with her words rather than beneficially inform him of coming events. Acting on impulse, he drew her close, giving her a chaste kiss.

"I trust your words."

She smiled, a giggle erupting from some place deep inside of her. Present worries could stand to take a backseat for the moment. There would still be there for her in the morning, after all.

"So…will you show me where you got that stuff? I'd like a refill…" he took her hand, guiding her through the bustling crowds.

* * *

Hours later, an inebriated Rem toddled her way through the crowds. Legolas had been loathe to leave her side, but she hadn't wanted him to avoid the other men. With the way Ansel had been acting, she surmised Legolas ought to interact with anyone and everyone who made the effort. That way, nasty rumors would die in their tracks, before even leaving her brother's judgemental lips.

Gimli and Éowyn's brother had purposely sought him out so that they could invite him to partake in a drinking game. He had at first refused, at which point Éomer and the dwarf had playfully badgered him about his abilities, but Rem convinced him that she would be fine on her own for a little bit. Besides, she was pretty sure he could drink the other two under the table any day of the week. Elves, after all, lived hundreds and even thousands of years; plenty of time to perfect their wines and whatnot. Not to mention imbibe them. Might as well give him the chance to have a little fun.

She'd never actually been this drunk before in her life, and tomorrow she would never allow herself to be so again. As for now, she felt fantastic, if a bit uncoordinated. She didn't have far to wander: her husband was in the midst of conversing with a soldier, someone Rem didn't recognize. But she couldn't be bothered with silly details like that. Without warning, she hugged him from behind, tightening her arms about his waist and chest amorously. If he was startled, he didn't show it. Both he and the soldier looked bemused, as a matter of fact.

Legolas excused himself politely, gingerly unwrapping his wife's hands from his body so as not to injure her. It was obvious that she was extremely drunk. Perhaps, he thought distractedly, he ought not to have introduced her to the fig-colored brew she had most likely drank in copious amounts. He hastened them away from the crowds, into an empty hallway that led presumably toward the other bedchambers of Medusel.

"Rem, you're drunk," he patiently explained, still unsuccessfully trying to extract her from his well-built frame. He doubted she would be so openly affectionate if she were in her right mind.

"So?" She reached for him again when he had just managed to detangle her left arm from his hip. She sidled in front of him with alarming speed, almost as though she were instead within perfect state of clarity. Even though he knew she most certainly was not.

Without warning, she grasped him gently between the legs, startling him enough to bolt away from her reach. At least he tried to. Before he could managed to evade her touch, Rem backed him close enough to a wall to prevent such an escape. He was about to protest, apprehension pleading with his mind that this was not the time nor place for such activity. Rem was not within her right mind.

"Rem," he gasped, her name a strangled syllable upon his lips as she squeezed. Her other questing hand found its way beneath his shirt, disheveling it as she sought out his hot skin. He fought for the strength to maintain his control, to be strong enough to resist Rem's sudden lack of inhibition. But the tenacious threads, which barely allowed him to oppose her, were breaking. He wanted this…he wanted her. But the threat of someone coming across them coupling in the hall festered in his mind.

Thankfully, her devious hand left his hardening member, only to join the other in his voyage beneath his now rumpled shirt.

"Rem, you have to stop…" his voice strangled into a moan, its usually velvet tone somehow more raw in his desperation. But the husky intonation did nothing to dissuade his wife, who was quite within her own little world right now.

Her hips pressed roughly into his, creating a friction as her tortuous hands found his nipples. She fondled them roughly, enough so that his tightening hold on her shoulders—meant to push her away—did nothing more than keep her from leaving. She leaned in toward his neck, kissing it wetly, creating a delicious trail that made Legolas breath hard in anguish. But she was unrelenting.

She came to the delicate curve of his ear, and curiously began to further her exploration. He released a smothered moan, and she moved her surprisingly talented hands to the skin of his back. She anchored herself to him, nibbling suckling the flesh of that innocent little ear. Rem had little idea that an elf could be brought to orgasm by such stimulation alone. That was when his precious self-control splintered beyond repair.

Before she could even draw breath he had reversed their positions, forcefully pressing her into the wall as he tore at the fabric of her dress. He ravished her neck, her lips, ripping at the neckline of her dress in his haste to suckle her soft breasts. He was beyond thought at this point: he wanted to take her hard, and she was doing little to dissuade him. Rem held him to her, wordlessly urging him on. He released himself quickly, rock hard and tipped with the evidence of his desire, thrusting into the wet and ready cavern of his moaning wife.

He kissed her, swallowing the sounds that slipped past both their throats as they consummated their love-making. Her heartbeat was fast and erratic, and she crushed her eyes shut as the world began to flip inside out, signaling the beginning of her orgasm. Her hands tangled in the golden braids of his hair, rooting herself to the vivid reality of his presence.

"Legolas," she murmured breathlessly. It was soft, a tearless cry as he mercilessly bared her soul to the incredible feelings brewing between them, "…Legolas…"He kissed her one last time, her name inside his mouth, sticking to the roof of it as they both came.

Their breath mingled, and no other sound could be heard beyond the distant sounds of jubilation beyond their blessedly deserted hall.

* * *

A/N: In the books, Saruman and Gríma aren't killed at Orthanc. I wanted to keep with this, given that I didn't really like the movie portrayal of their end…and anyway, this helps my plot! Hope you all enjoyed, and please review!!

kwisy: Thanks very much!!

Avatarone3: Wow!! Thank you very much!! You always manage to make me blush, you know that?! Thank you Thank you Thank you!!! Please keep reading and reviewing!! As for Legolas and Rem, they're not out of the woods yet…

ren-hatake: Thanks very much! Please continue to enjoy!!

Slywolf9: Worth the wait? I'll hold you to that!! Thanks very much for the sweetie review—please keep reading and reviewing!! I promise I'll touch on everyone's reactions in another chapter!!

Punk Rocker Fairy: Yes, bless Galadriel's fore-sight!! Pregnancy is the least of what the couple need right now. Already enough drama to border on a mary-sue fic. Thanks for the review!!

AQUA77: Thank you very much!! Your compliments are gratefully received!! And like Legolas said, he technically didn't 'trick' her….she just happened to parakeet what he said. Lucky for Lego!! I'm glad you like the '9' thing!! I promise it will become clear in the end (however far that is…I never planned out how many chapters this story would have….but that's okay)! Thanks again, and please keeping reading and reviewing!!

April: Thanks!! That was my first lemon!! This chapter qualifies as my second…lol Glad you like!!

Black-Sun-567: lol Thank you very much!! Glad you haven't given up hope on me yet (my updates are shamefully slow these days) so please keep reading!! Hugs to you, my friend!!

caros24084u: Thank you very much!! I hope you continue to enjoy (and review)!! I'll keep writing…

kbird213: You are very welcome!! Lol one pervert to another (it was actually my first lemon, too!! I feel decidedly dangerous now lol Thanks for reviewing!!

BakaProductions: Lol thank you, I'm very flattered. I'll keep that in mind when spring break rolls around (hopefully I'll have a new computer by then…thus tempting me to type on it more). Please keep reading and I'll keep writing!! Reviews are always appreciated!!

Sarifina85: Thank you for spotting that mistake—VERY much appreciated!! I can be flea-brained sometimes (okay, quite frequently, but most people honestly are). Glad you like my story, and please keep reading and reviewing!! Hugs to you!!

Raxsah003: Thank you, and I'll strive to avoid making short chapters for now on (they're kind of a bad habit of mine). Thanks for reviewing, and glad you like my fic!!

Lov3good: Ah, thanks so much!! You made me blush!! I agree…lemons are quite daunting…so I especially appreciate your compliments = D Thanks again, and please keep reading and reviewing!!

AmberLovesLOST: lol Thanks!! I hope Rem held up to your expectations in the first portion (yes, she's still drunk in the next chapter…had to finish the lemon before breaking the mood with humor). Pleas keep reading and reviewing!!

Melibells: have I ever mentioned how much I love your long reviews? They really make my day!! Glad you liked the inner-peace depiction…I figured the elf ought to be outwardly somewhat satisfied in a visible way = D lol And yes, if I were fluently bilingual, I could imagine switching tongues during such an experience, too…(nope, not weird at all). As for the family (on both sides, counting Gandalf) Ansel regretfully still has a stick up his butt…I'm planning to go into his psyche in an upcoming chapter, so he doesn't come off as a complete douche bag (he's not honestly trying to. He and Rem are from different worlds, and have the same bad temper lol). Thanks once again for the BEAUTIFUL sketch you made…I really can't thank you enough!! Please keep reading, reviewing, and drawing!! (Don't forget to keep writing, too!!) Hugs!!!

Sharnorasian Empire: sorry…updates are much for sporadic than they used to be. But pleaes keep reading and reviewing!!

ForeverBlue90: lol yes, I really wish it could ward off evil…I'd never fear the boogie man again!! Please keep reading!!

Blazing Ocean: Really?! Wow, thank you very much!! That's made my night!! Please keep reading, and I'll be sure to finish this fic!!

LFuCkToY: Thanks very much!! I hope that's true!! It would be fun to be a romance novelist….Hugs for the sweet compliment and apologies for the long delay!!

Growling Cat: Thanks!! Glad you're enjoying it!!

IronBell: Hurray!! ::does a dance before tripping over the cat:: Thank you very much!! I'm thrilled you don't think of Rem as a mary-sue…may I never turn toward that dark path ::shudders:: Please keep reading and reviewing—it's writer fuel!! Lol Compliments definitely help, too.

Staraz: Thank you very much!! Wow, I'd be very flattered if you were to mention my story in your author's note!! The more promotion, the better (I'll admit I love the attention) lol I appreciate the fact that you don't see Rem as a mary-sue (thankfully, no one has mentioned she might be one, but I'm kind of paranoid about falling into that with this story). And as for Rem jumping Legolas the first time seeing him in the buff…well, I'd probably react the same way (lol as would many girls, despite whatever hot-air they blow in protesting that they'd harbor no such hesitation). I've never written lemons before, so I'm stoked you find me good at it!! Please keep reading and reviewing, and I'll keep adding lemons!!

CountryGirl6699: Thanks very much!! Hope you continue to enjoy!!

truepinkluv24: Thanks!! Can't rush something worth waiting for, right? Please keep reading!!

JackSpicerRules: Thank you!! Admittedly, I'll have to add more of his thoughts in light of the most recent developments—thanks for reminding me!! Glad you like my fic!!

Morbidmuch: Hey, I'm glad you did! And to be frank, the first book (Fellowship of The Ring) is the hardest to get through…namely because Frodo sits on his ass for 30something years before he actually embarks on his quest (which equates to about half the book). So I don't blame you in that regard! I'm thrilled you love my story—makes me feel warm inside!! I'm afraid I don't have a real 'schedule' in terms of updating, but I'll do my best!! I've shamefully slowed down these past several months, but I can promise you here and now that this story will never go unfinished!! Please keep reading and reviewing, and I'll keep writing!! Hugs to you!!

lilo: Cradle robbing? Yes. But to be fair, Rem is crypt-robbing (I mean, if he were human he'd have been dead for over a millennia and nine hundred something centuries). Thanks for the reviews!!

Timber: Thank you very much!! Glad I could make you squeal!! I will update again as soon as possible!!

alfalfa7: Thank you! Please keep reading and reviewing!!

027: yes, that would have been severely awkward. But thankfully, no one bothered to read over my shoulder while on the fourth floor of the library. Although, if such a thing occurred and I were brave (or simply tired enough) I'd probably turn around and say 'do you MIND?!' lol As for the speed of gossip in Middle Earth? Well, lets not forget Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, has a Palantír…and that's all I'm going to say = D Thanks for the lovely review, as always, and please continue to read my ramblings!!

Maisie: Thanks!

Rin Tashioto: Lol yes, it's a small little world, isn't it? Hope the first portion of Rem's drunk-episode held up to your expectations!! She'll be more amusing in the next chapter, I swear (didn't want to break the mood in this one). Demi Lovato, hm? Well, that's pretty close, I have to admit. For a good depiction of what Rem looks like, check out the fanart Melibells created on deviant art . com (under the same name). I think she captured her quite well, especially in the drawing depicting Rem hurling her bag at poor Merry and Pippin (back in the mines of Moria, when they walked in on her changing). Please keep me updated on any logos you have in mind for Road To Rohan—I'm extremely flattered you'd take the time to do that!! I'd be happy to help you figure out what to write for a Potter or LOTR fic. What are you having trouble with? A plot in general, or sticking with one to make the outline of the story work? Message me on this site with further queries!! Many hugs and much appreciation sent your way, oh sister-of-the-same-nickname = D


	26. What Is Left

Disclaimer: Not mine. Therefore no profit is or ever will be made. I'm sure there's a collective sigh of relief regarding that…lol

A/N: Contrary to popular belief, I was not hit by a bus.

I am alive and kicking, as evident by this newest update! If curious, I'll bore you with my excuses at the end of the chapter.

Sorry, no amusing drunk Rem in this chapter…saving that for the next one. Instead, I'll reveal what the heck the Valar want with Rem, and what that has to do with the number nine.

* * *

'How do we forgive our Fathers?

Maybe in a dream  
Do we forgive our Fathers for leaving us too often or forever  
When we were little?

Maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage  
Or making us nervous  
because there never seemed to be any rage there at all.

Do we forgive our Fathers for marrying or not marrying our Mothers?  
For Divorcing or not divorcing our Mothers?

And shall we forgive them for their excesses of warmth or coldness?  
Shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning  
For shutting doors  
For speaking through walls  
Or never speaking  
Or never being silent?

Do we forgive our Fathers in our age or in theirs  
Or in their deaths  
Saying it to them or not saying it?

If we forgive our Fathers what is left?'

~ Sherman Alexie, inspired by another poem by Dick Lourie

* * *

Shadows bled from the starlight above, vague and inconsistent in their weak plight. The thoughtful footfalls of the ranger could be heard by those of keen hearing, for the consideration of announcing his presence. It was not, after all, in Aragorn's intention to disturb the prince of Mirkwood. The elf seemed in deep contemplation, and did no stir at his approach. He was hooded and cloaked, looking out toward the horizon, his thoughts plainly hidden. The worn clay pipe felt warm in Aragorn's hand, despite the chill in the air as he waited for the inevitable words that would come.

He was familiar with his companion's disposition: the mannerisms by which he carried himself. They would be invisible to another's careless attempts at observation. He did not have long to wait.

"The stars are veiled." The velvet of his friend's voice seemed loud in the penetrating silence. Aragorn said nothing, though in truth he was a bit startled by such an off-topic remark. Or rather, he found himself bemused at the reasonless admission of his friend. It was as though he were maneuvering the conversation away from what they both has earlier discussed. Still, despite the elf's deepening relationship with Rem, there were other things of more significant importance on which their minds ought not stray.

"Something stirs in the east," Legolas continued, "…a sleepless malice." Sensing his friend's gaze, his azure eyes met Aragorn's wary brown, "the Eye of the enemy is moving."

* * *

There were penguins chasing her. Not only that, but despite how slowly they waddled, she just couldn't freaking out-run them. Running on ice shouldn't be that hard. It was like one of those old-fashioned horror movies where, no matter how slowly the killer stalked its prey, the victim would nonetheless be dead before the film's end.

That was when it occurred to Rem that she was probably dreaming, like a light shining through a fog. It would also explain why the penguins could clearly be heard screaming 'give us back our cheese!' in the Common Tongue. Or was it English? She was having trouble being able to tell anymore. However, before she could fully wake, something pulled her down.

It was metaphorical at first, but she soon felt the undeniable pressure of a gentle hand wrapped about her wrist. There was a strange familiarity in that grip that almost made her stomach twist with the aching feeling that she should recognize this touch. She didn't have long to wait as the tumbling of the world around her ceased. Realization crept across her mind at the visage presented before her.

Lórien's smiling face came into view, making Rem's throat constrict with a sort of silent dread. She wanted to scream but could not utter a sound. His fingers threaded through her own, and his other hand wove itself into the lax grip of her right. Any moment now, Rem would awaken screaming.

"I trust we find you well, Lady Rem?" There was that awkwardly loathsome title once again. She made a small sound in protest, but her wandering eyes caught sight of another dressed in robes of blue. Blue…why did that color seem so familiar? Something she should have known, something beyond that grasp of immediate remembrance, flickered through her thoughts. An epiphany…paper…and quill. Ink would be needed…but wait…what was she thinking about?

"Remember the vices and virtues of your number, Rem."

"Your part must be set into motion" The second voice was deceptively gentle: belonging to a pair of green eyes, pale skin, and chocolate hair that framed a beautiful face.

"Vairë…?" She smiled at the use of her name, though it was a wan thing that didn't quite stretch past those few approving features suggesting its presence. Rem didn't feel much like smiling either. What was left of any good humor she might have felt had sunk like a stone inside of her. It had been some time since her last dream akin to this; a sour fear of being sent back lay coiled up inside of her.

The gentle, fair faces of the Valar gazed upon her in tranquil expectance, making her squirm. But despite whatever intentions of her will, her fingers would not cooperate and untwist themselves from Lórien's.

"What do you want?"

"The thread will not weave…it's tangled in confusion. Your confusion….You must reach fruition before I can finish my tapestry. My weaving must not remain unfinished, whatever path you may choose, Rem." She sucked in a breath, reflecting on Vairë's words. Turning them over in her mind in the vain attempt to find meaning.

From what she could remember, in the dim recessed of her mind, Vairë was known among the Valar as the Weaver. The one who wove the stories of the World upon her tapestries which hung in Mandos…so that would mean…that her destiny lay here?

"You are the nine." Lórien gently supplied. Rem resisted rolling her eyes skyward, once again unsuccessfully striving to relinquish his grasp as he firmly cradled her hands.

"Look…I haven't understood the last few dozen times you've mentioned that. How about we cut the crap and get right to the chase?" She half expected a silence to befall them at her foul choice of words. Though it never came beyond the measurement of a few seconds. It felt as though a deep sigh were blowing past her flesh; as though the members of the Valar before her felt compunction toward her ignorance. She was really starting to hate that.

"From whence did you believe this tale had sprung, Lady Rem?" She stopped concentrating on tugging away her hands, if only momentarily so that she could deadpan an answer.

"…It's Rem," she replied simply, "and…they're written in books. Stories from an author back…" She was going to say 'home.' It had been on the tip of her tongue. She had been about to say it. But, that's wasn't necessarily true anymore. Not really. Not after the horror she'd felt after that…that nightmare. Not after all she'd been through. These…they weren't stories any more. Not to her. She could hardly remember when they had ceased to be part of some far-fetched fantasy and become her only truth. Not now that she was actually living them. Not after…

A brief flash of Legolas burst though her mind: of him scowling at her after they first met; the flush of his skin and fiery burn in his eye when engaged in argument; the gentle smile he gave her when under the starlight…Of when they had first made love: desperation between their thrashing bodies and dizzying wet lips…

Like a small pebble through a rough stream, understanding began to sink past the surface of her thoughts.

"I already know…that this is all real. I don't really know how or why or…whatever. But the point is…..And I've been mulling it over for a while now…that this place is real. Was real…I mean…that Middle Earth…Arda…is… was actual history from my world. It's all happening because it's happened before…"She was rambling. Rem was painfully aware of it, too. Yet she couldn't stop. Like a choking faucet before the air could dispel and water allowed to flow through its rusted pipes. It had all been brewing deep inside of her for some time now, just waiting to spill out to someone. Anyone.

"…What are you trying to tell me? What do you mean 'there's a path'? What does any of this possibly have to do with me…and being a nine?" Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. "and what is a nine…? I don't get it!" tears of frustration were burning her eyes. Or at least it felt like it. Hard to tell, since this was supposed to be a dream. It was a dream, wasn't it? Lórien's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Rem…how is it that one man…This Tolkein, possibly conceived a few small shards of something true?" This was a test. It had to be a test. It didn't really sound like they were teasing her. Not with that strange look in Vairë's eye, nor the leashed steel grip of Lórien's hands; the one thing physically manifest literally holding her in place within the realm of this queer seer dream. So she answered honestly, although she had to swallow beforehand.

"Before…all of this. Before Saruman summoned me and…well…what I mean is that it just never occurred to me that any of this was real, somewhere. I thought…I used to think that Tolkein had been exceptionally specific because he was so imaginative or something…"

"But did you never wonder who had been his muse?" Lórien murmured softly, loosening his grip. But it was Rem who decidedly refused to let go. Her eyes darted to those of Vairë, but they gave nothing away. Not comfort, but no judgment either. She would have gladly accepted either; anything to give her some sort of clue…

"I take it that it wasn't his wife?" she half-joked. Ancient eyes stared past her core, penetrating. Rem's throat felt dry.

"What is it…that you're trying to tell me? It's someone from Middle Earth? How is that even possible…?" she asked weakly.

"Rem," Vairë's voice dripped in soothing tones like honey, meant as a balm to Rem's nerves. "A nine, above all else, defines someone as having the opportunity to touch the heart of humanity. Your life path, the alignment of your birth of the appointed time, casts you in the roll of choice..."

"A choice regarding what?!" Vairë continued as if she had not been interrupted.

"…You may find purpose and meaning within Arda through the experiences that help you realize, or reject, the common humanity you share with others. Your presence here, while unplanned, has put into play a singular chance. One opportunity, and one alone; my threads would tangle were the tapestry to host such a destiny of any other."

Lórien's hands loosened, and let Rem's slip from their hold. She didn't notice.

"Arda will fall, in time. We would be remembered, were you to utilize your gift of worldly philanthropy," her hand, surprisingly cool to the touch, pressed to the skin of Rem's forehead. A burst of blue, and a familiar epiphany flooded her as Vairë's words proceeded. "you need only put quill to parchment, for the story of Arda to reach Tolkein's hands."

"What?! It's me…? How—b- But he's in another time and place! Besides that, how can I even ensure he gets it?!" Lórien looked strained, as if he were beginning to feel drained of energy. Dimly, it occurred to Rem that it probably had to do with both his and Vairë's presence. While master of dreams and portents, it obviously took some sort of toll for him. The world around them was beginning to waver; opaque shadows where deep color once resided.

"Rem, the positive capabilities of your number in name and birth designate you as the one who must do this. You are the only one who can." Her mind was reeling. She was the one who had written Lord of the Rings? Indirectly, maybe but…how was such a thing even possible? Her dreams could be notable as strange. But this was all a bit much, even for her.

"You make it sound like I'm the only person whose birthday and name add up to nine! Isn't there anyone else…? Someone…?" Lórien shook his head gently, effectively silencing her.

"There is no other. No child of man has been born under such constraints as of late, and time grows short."

"This is impossible! There has to be some mistake," she looked to them, beseechingly. "I'm not even from this time period! And…you never even explained how numerology even exists here…this far back. And how would I even be able to write it all down; get it to Tolkein no less! Evidently, he's thousands of years away…"

"Time is not a straight line, Rem. It can be bent into any shape. The veil between worlds may be lifted." Well, that vaguely answered where numerology. Wouldn't Pythagoras be pissed to know his ideas hadn't been original…still, the Valar hadn't really answered the question either. Besides, for all Rem knew the religious mathematician and philosopher might have very well been pleased regarding the whole shebang—that his theories held some grain of truth. Enough so that these otherworldly beings regarded her by the definition such the philosophy of numbers gave her.

So this was it? Her ultimate job in this world, defined by the stupid mistake of her birthday, was to play scribe and historian for Middle Earth? But…what if she didn't do this? What if she couldn't…? Rem felt like her head was going to explode.

"If I don't do this…if I can't manage…"

"Embracing the negative aspects of your number, which environs also your name as Rem Jane Eltrin, would tear the tapestry. Were this Tolkein not to receive your work because of self-indulgent refusal or lack of discipline, the books would never come into existence. Choose that path, and you will never come to this time and place; our world would be forgotten, and it would be as if you had never been," her eyes darkened knowingly, "…the elf prince and you would never meet." Rem's heart leapt into her throat at that thought.

So all this time… Lórien had been trying to tell her. He had certainly done a crappy job of it. Why could he never have come right out and say it? Like 'Rem, because numerology in adding the letters of your name and birthdate, fate has decreed it most convenient for you to write everything down….'

Jerk.

Or maybe he was just an idiot.

"So…if I…I mean when I do this…you'll let me stay?" They made no answer. She took it to mean the worst, "but you can't! Not after all that I've been through! I'm not some fucking marionette you can just put away when it's no longer convenient for you…" Someone horrible occurred to her, making her recoil.

"Wait, did you encourage Saruman to summon me in the first place? Because you thought it would be fucking convenient?!" The idea of the manipulative being manipulate and its irony was lost on Rem as she seethed with growing frustration and rage.

"Your coming merely set all else in motion. We would only use that to our advantage," Lórien's facial expression confessed that he was feeling a bit insulted at the accusation. But Rem wasn't really paying that much attention.

"I can't leave him….I won't! Legolas is….he's…" Blackness quaffed whatever her next words might have been. And she found herself sitting alone in the dark, a pounding headache pulsing through her skull.

That was when all hell broke loose.

* * *

"…Pippin!"

The hiss of a dangerous voice rumbled through her subconscious, jerking her into wakefulness. There was a sour taste in her mouth, like at any moment she would hurl. She could barely make out the words, though the sound they made caused her flesh to crawl. Merry's yell wrenched her out of wakefulness, and she moved before she could coherently take stock of what the heck was going on in the pandemonium around her.

The struggle of others, doubtless Legolas and Aragorn, could be heard on her right. Merry was screaming for help. She found herself tumbling forward in agitated momentum, against her protesting stomach's wishes. Unfortunately, this caused her to trip whoever it was rushing past her. With a soft curse in the Elvish tongue, he detangled himself from her limbs, and rashly grabbed the palantir from Pippin's hands.

"Oh, fuck!" Rem gasped, feeling undeniably stupid. _Shit, it's my fault he grabbed it without thinking!!_ For once, no one took notice of her foul language as Legolas swept toward his friend, intent on ridding him of the cursed orb. It clattered to the ground with his success, and rolled away in a fiery mass of angry color.

Suddenly, it ceased as a thick cloak enveloped the ball and halted its progress. Rem swallowed. Crap, Gandalf would be pissed. For all appearances, it looked like she would be to blame for Aragorn's stupid move.

"Fool of a Took!"

But then again…

Silence descended, and in spite of Rem's massive hangover, she worriedly looked over toward the luckless hobbit. She felt Legolas' hands at her waist, aiding her in the quest to successfully sit up, at which she was somehow failing. She accepted gratefully, crawling her way over to Aragorn in order to see if he was all right. He waved her and the elf off, indicating that, aside from being somewhat shaken, he was fine. Rem crouched back upon the floor, trying to keep her head from spinning. She closed her eyes briefly, wishing instead that she were still dreaming. The Valar's words were still ringing within her ears…

"…Look at me…" the wizard's voice deepened in concern, soft in the darkness. Rem stared at them, eyes no longer dry, feeling like a porcupine was rupturing what little there was left of her poor skull. After all this time, during which she spent a great deal of it wishing to have some influence in helping her companions, she finally found what it was she could do. And it could not help anyone in any way, shape, or form. She was to be a dutiful scribe. A useless writer…while others suffered all around her. It was a lot to take in.

Maybe it was the stress of this now unwated knowledge, or maybe the afteraffects of getting really drunk. In any case, she was in a lot of anguish, and tears had started pouring from her brown eyes without her knowledge. Stormy blue eyes found her own, questioning without words whether or not she was all right. Not sure how to answer, she shrugged, returning her gaze to the scene unfolding before them.

"Gandalf," Pippin whimpered, "forgive me…!"

* * *

"Here, drink this," Legolas murmurd. Rem eyed the questionable looking liquid, hesitating. She wasn't too keen on swallowing something that looked, and smelled, like an herbal nightmare. Still, Éowyn had gone to all the trouble of trying to locate all of the proper ingredients. Whether or not they were fresh was of a different matter. It was settled. Rem was never getting drunk again. Ever.

As soon as she had mentioned having a hangover from last night's festivities, the King's niece had only been too willing to assist her husband in acquiring said beverage. Maybe like a peace offering of sorts. They hadn't talked much since the battle of Helm's Deep, at any rate.

"Well…," she said in a falsely cheer tone, "bottoms up!" Rem gagged just a teeny bit on the flavor, but forced it down. Éowyn stared at the other woman wonderingly from a distance, as if curious about something. Rem met her look, praying that the nasty taste in her mouth wouldn't linger, before bravely facing her husband's concerned eyes.

"Um…thanks for that." He nodded, slowly.

"Rem…are you well? Your tears from before…did you have another nightmare?" She smiled wryly, no doubt confusing him further.

"yeah…something like that. It's…kind of hard to explain." His brow furrowed in concern

"Tell me." She hesitated. How to begin?

" I will…just not…right now. I don't think the medicine is kicking in yet. Do you think…I can go lie down?" He arose in consent, needlessly helping her from her seat at the massive table in the main hall. Éowyn continued to stare as they exited the throne room, making their way to the shared accommodations from last night. Had there been less injured from the battle, Rem would have been afforded a private room as before. In any case, it was out of Éowyn's hands.

Despite her better sense, she harbored offensive questions regarding the other woman. Rumor had circulated, amidst the splashing of ale and numerous victuals passed around the night before. Rem, while known to be a younger half-sister of Ansel—a member of the guard—it had before not been widely known that she was also a bastard. The strange thing was that such a fact had been overheard to leave Rem's own mouth. While not unusual for children to be born out of wedlock, it was nonetheless looked down upon among her people.

Éowyn herself didn't quite know what to think. On one hand, she did not much care one way or another for the girl's bloodline. She was a capable woman it would seem, without a bad head on her shoulders. If she were completely honest with herself, she also grudgingly admired the girl's brave tongue in speaking her mind without thought for consequence. Not only that, but she had wed—if in a rather unorthodox manner—the man she loved.

Yet on the other hand, many did not approve of the mixed heritage. Honor was held in high regard among her people, and Ansel himself was aware of his own precarious position in having Eorl as a father. It had been suspected, though not widely realized, that he'd had dealings with the White Wizard in a shameful respect. Some had thought Eorl had merely run away. However, with Rem's sudden appearance and the avalanche of happenings occurring around them, some of the women were beginning to think of the stranger in their midst as an ill omen. Not only that, but another rumor circulated that Rem had the powers of a seer. She herself felt inclined to believe the latter, after Lord Aragorn's reappearance, owing to the promise Rem had made her.

If nothing else, much was being spoken about the strange elf-bride in their midst. And Éowyn feared that much of the unwarranted attention would quickly sour from curiosity and superstition into something far more lethal as time went on. It would probably be best if Rem were to leave Rohan for a time. Mulling over this, she promised herself that she would speak to the elf about these matters as soon as he returned.

* * *

A/N: Sorry I can't write out individual thank-yous this (short) chapter, as is my custom…bit crunched for time. Once again thought you'd rather I post an update rather than take an extra two days to respond to them all. I swear I'll respond to them within the next posting, though!

Hugs to all who reviewed!!!!

Ahem, as to my long absence, for which I apologize, I've gotten rather caught up with school. My graphic design portfolio is actually due before the end of this month, as is an 8 page research paper for Islamic Art History, upcoming finals, and miscellaneous other things. I've also been babysitting my friend's cat while she's on vacation.

Then there is the finale for the end of the month—the Nashville anime convention. And I've been working on several costumes for that one. So yeah….been feeling like a chicken with her head cut off…so once again, please forgive me and keep reading!!! Reviews are always appreciated!!!


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